Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector

by Cheryl Johnson

  Wishing he could disappear into the darkness, Dak settled for pulling his bedroll away from the fire pit. He couldn't bear to see pity or disgust on Talon's face. In another lifetime, they would have been friends. Not now. No man wanted to stand beside a coward.

  "Kierin!" Talon demanded. "Tell me what you said to Dak! Exactly what you said!"

  Talon's aggressive attitude confused her more. She was worried about Dak. He was acting so strange. What did it matter to Talon what she said? Sneaking a quick look at Dak, Kierin shrugged.

  "I don't know. Nothing special. He wanted to fight the Phantom Riders but he only had a small knife. He would have died so I told him no."

  "Exactly how did you tell him no, Kierin?"

  "Really, Talon, this entire conversation is uncalled for. What difference does …?”

  "EXACTLY!” Talon roared, his face inches from Kierin’s.

  "I told him he had to stay there. What's the matter with you?"

  Talon stood, raking his fingers through his hair. With fists clenched at his waist, he turned his full fury on her. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

  When Kierin would have interrupted him, he stopped her with one finger pointed at her nose. "It was a rhetorical question. I warned you on the Transport that you would destroy him if you didn't release him. Now … NOW! You’ve done even worse!

  "You have no concept of just how strong your powers are, do you? Every word from your mouth carries a heavy price. Dak is a man, Kierin! He's not some trained circus primate you can lead around with a leash!"

  "I know that, Talon, but you don't understand.” He wasn't saying anything she didn't already know. She'd been fighting her guilt since she slipped the chain around Dak's neck on Safe Haven. This wasn't how she wanted things to be but she didn't owe Talon any explanation for her actions.

  "I understand you've taken away Dak's manhood. He's a warrior, Kierin, trained to protect those weaker than him. Yes, he probably would have died. Death isn't a stranger to a man like Dak--a man trained for battle. It's a constant companion. Put yourself in his place, Kierin. He's traveling with a woman with a death warrant on her head. That same woman is being chased by the most ruthless, merciless wad of humanity to ever breathe. With a few careless words, you've destroyed him.

  "If you were so worried about his death, why didn't you send him back to Anderas the minute he was freed from the slave market? That would have been the compassionate act of human kindness. Instead you condemn him to the most horrible death a man can imagine--huddled in the shadows unable to lift a finger in his own defense."

  Kierin’s heart ached with what her actions may have done to Dak but she had to keep him alive. Talon felt justified in his anger, but she had to believe that the end would justify the means. It was the only way she could stay sane.

  "You don't know how Dak feels, Talon. Are you sure you're not imposing your own fears onto him?"

  "Look at him, Kierin. LOOK AT HIM, I SAID!"

  Kierin jerked when Talon yelled at her. Slowly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, she turned to face Dak. Tears lodged in her throat and threatened to choke her. She'd never seen him so--empty. From the first instant she spotted him, chained and naked at the slave market, she'd had the impression of tightly leashed power. Every imaginable nuance of emotion flared in the dark depths of his eyes. Now, there was nothing there. The body still lived, but the light of living was gone. He just sat there staring into the darkness. If he knew he was being so thoroughly discussed he didn't show it.

  "One of those thugs got away. If he gets back to Draagon, you'll have more to worry about than Dak's state of mind.

  Kierin watched in stunned silence while Talon grabbed up his weapons and whistled for his horse. Several of the Riders' mounts followed Talon's into the clearing. At least they wouldn't have to walk home.

  "I'll load up the bodies from the meadow and dump them in a ravine somewhere. Dak can take care of your horses. Release him or I'll take the problem out of your hands. I told you on the Transport that I'd kill him if that was the only way to free him from your imprisonment. If he's still like this," Talon indicated Dak with a jerk of his head, "when I get back--a couple of days, a week at the most--I will kill him, Kierin. No man deserves this."

  Kierin sat staring at the spot where Talon stood long after the echo of hooves faded into the night. Talon would do exactly as he threatened; she had no doubt of that at all. Could she gain Dak's willing acceptance of what she required and free him from the power of the amulet? Her heart ached from what she'd put him through. Surely, once she explained how desperate she was he wouldn't turn his back on her. She had planned on telling him why she bought him when they reached the safety of her fortress. Talon's threats and Dak's lack of emotional life forced her to change those plans.

  Dak continued to confuse her, to excite her in ways she never imagined; and she wanted him back. She wanted the slow grin and wicked wink. She wanted the blaze of anger in his dark chocolate eyes. Maybe it was time to stop thinking about what she wanted and think about Dak. As if there was any time awake or asleep that she didn't think about her unusual Anderan.

  "Dak?” Kierin’s whisper floated on the night air, soft as the mist dampening her skin. "Will you come over here? Please? I'd like to explain.” This feeling of exposure was absurd considering what she needed from him. She couldn't shake the feeling that neither of them would ever be the same after tonight. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

  Dak didn't move his bedroll back to the fire pit, but he did move closer. Kierin sifted through the various truths of her situation, deciding which ones applied to Dak. Could she tell him enough to guarantee his help? Without condemning him to the same death sentence she faced? She couldn't tell him everything. Some secrets absolutely must stay buried deep within her fortress.

  "Would you care for a cup of tea?” The offer sounded ridiculous considering they very nearly lost their lives not more than an hour ago, but it gave her something to do with her hands and delayed the moment when she had to look Dak in the eye.

  Dak never acknowledged her question. Knowing she wouldn't drink it if she made it, Kierin abandoned the teapot and faced Dak.

  Any flicker of hope she had left that this conversation could wait until they reached her fortress died when she saw Dak in the full light of the fire. Talon was right. With her single-minded goal of procuring the services of an Anderan, she had destroyed another human being.

  "Please believe that I never imagined something like tonight happening. I honestly thought I could get us safely home before Draagon or his Phantom Riders came after us.” Kierin drew in a deep, shaky breath and pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders.

  "I am so sorry, Dak.” She wiped at the tears she could no longer contain. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I never thought anyone would be hurt.” Kierin’s heart beat painfully, making breathing difficult.

  "You don't know about my world. We've limited our travel to the less populated planets on this side of the galaxy. Your world, and others like it, is more advanced--more capable of providing for yourselves the services we can offer. So many life forms don't even have the basic knowledge necessary to prevent infection or supplement their children's meager diet.

  "The healing properties of nature's bounty are as different as the inhabitants of each world, yet they all share the same aura of power. We can … sense which herbs and minerals will work for whichever remedy we're seeking, regardless of the environment.

  "What most people don't know is that we can't do this alone. It takes two of us--a male and female. A female crystal witch is the one who knows which element will work but it takes a male crystal witch to activate the natural power locked in each element."

  Kierin knew she was avoiding the issue. Dak didn't need to know the history of her race.

  "My father and brother didn't expect to die so there aren't enough activated crystals to last more than a couple of months. I can make a living with my herbs a
nd potions, but I have to recharge my security every six months. It's all that stands between me and Draagon."

  Kierin searched Dak's face for any sign of comprehension or understanding. At least he was looking at her instead of some point over her shoulder. A chill that had little to do with the night air settled around her shoulders. In a perfect world, she’d never have this conversation. She’d have a husband and the issue would be a decision made by both of them. Dak was a stranger, despite everything they’d been through together. There would be no loving touches and gentle teasing and a part of her--the place where dreams lived--shriveled and died a little at what she would miss. Just thinking about putting her request into words embarrassed her to the point of tears. Unable to look at Dak, Kierin focused on the dancing flames, drew a deep breath and prayed. Please let him understand.

  "When I heard the rumors of an Anderan space crew being held on Safe Haven, I knew it was the answer to my prayers. Even this far from Anderas, we know about the plague. We know you can only father male children.” Kierin risked a quick glance at Dak. He was an intelligent man. Maybe he would make the connection and she wouldn’t have to actually say the words. The amulet he wore hid his thoughts.

  "Within a few weeks of conception, I could draw on a baby's power and keep my fortress secure. A son is my last chance, Dak, my only chance. Do you understand?"

  Kierin waited for Dak's response. The silence of the night, broken only by the pop and crackle of the fire and the gentle soughing of the wind in the evergreens, weighed heavy between them. "Say something … please?"

  Just when she thought Dak would ignore her question, he drew a deep breath into his lungs and shook his head.

  "You could have asked for my protection and I would have given it freely. With one message to JarDan, I could provide all your monetary needs--indefinitely. The one thing you ask of me, I cannot give."

  "Why?” Kierin no longer fought the tears filling her eyes. She was so sure Dak was the solution to her problem. His quiet denial hurt. She couldn't give up. "I remember your reaction on Safe Haven. I've seen the look in your eyes. You can't expect me to believe you can't … perform."

  "You didn't ask for sex, Kierin. You asked for a son. I have no doubt we'd be good together. Hell, we would probably set the sheets on fire, but it would be protected sex. Does your knowledge of the plague extend to the laws the Tribunal passed to protect our race?"

  With her hopes, dreams and plans shattering around her, all Kierin could manage was a small, negative motion.

  "To create a child with a woman from a planet other than those settled by the Ancients is punishable by death. Since I'm an adopted member of the royal family, banishment is the punishment of choice. The result would be the same to me."

  "That's ridiculous. You don't choose to love someone like selecting a pair of shoes at the market. Your laws are unrealistic."

  "I'm not in love with you, Kierin, and I'm not sure I even believe in the concept. I'll select a suitable mate--from my legal choices--and we'll have a son to carry on my family name. As for the laws of Anderas, I didn't write them and may not completely agree with the concept that created them, but I'm sworn to uphold them--with my life, if necessary."

  Wiping at the wetness on her face, Kierin knew she would never change Dak's mind. His strength of character was one of the unexpected facets to his personality. One of the reasons she'd allowed foolish dreams to take root in her heart.

  "No one would ever know. I'd never ask you to give up the life you have on Anderas."

  "I would know. The only thing that kept me sane in that prison was the belief that--somehow, someway--I would go home. We don’t grow up knowing we’ll end up light years away from Anderas living virtually alone. Anderans live and die on Anderas. It’s our anchor. We travel, but we always--always, Kierin--know we’ll go home.

  "Do you honestly believe I could turn my back on my own child? Or his mother? I can’t believe you want to bring a child into your world. Why would you endanger an innocent knowing Draagon could kill you at any time? What would happen to the boy then? If it means spending the rest of my life imprisoned by this damn stone, my answer has to be no."

  Kierin had come too far to give up without a fight. There had to be a way to convince Dak.

  "With a son, Draagon couldn't get to me. My fortress is impenetrable."

  "Draagon can't get in and you can't get out. Sounds like a prison to me. I know firsthand what that’s like and I refuse to have my son live like that. Do you plan to spend the rest of your life locked within your fortress? The people who need your herbs and potions, do they come to you or do you go to them? Is there some secret to looking at someone and knowing that Draagon hasn't paid them to get close enough to slip a blade between your ribs? I know what it's like to grow up without a mother, and believe me no child deserves that. There are enough uncertainties in life without deliberately seeking out danger. Why don't you leave this planet? You said yourself; there are hundreds of places your race could go. Find a new place to live, someplace with a few single male crystal witches or whatever you call them and pick out a husband who will jump at the chance to make you pregnant."

  "That's impossible.” Kierin tried to hold Dak's steady gaze, but the secrets she guarded deep within her fortress forced her to look away. No one--not even Dak--must ever discover the secret that was her father's greatest achievement and his deepest fear. "Is there no way to change your mind?"

  "I'm sorry you went to so much trouble for nothing, Kierin."

  "So am I, Dak.” Kierin lowered her head, suddenly too tired to hold her body straight. "If you agree to what I need you die. By refusing my offer you've condemned me to death. There's no way out.” Acceptance of Dak’s refusal was heartbreaking.

  "Too much has happened tonight. I can't make any rational decisions right now. Tomorrow will be soon enough to figure out what I need to do. We need to take care of the horses …."

  "Sit down. I may not be much in the way of protection, but I'm still able to dig a hole big enough to bury what’s left of the horses without assistance."

  Kierin watched Dak in silent misery. For a moment she'd seen the spark of anger in his eyes. She had to believe there was still hope. She'd give him the night to think and confront him again in the morning. Maybe he'd change his mind. If not, she had a couple of secrets she could use to try and force his hand.

  Curling into a ball, Kierin sought what comfort she could find on the cold, hard ground. "Good night, Dak."

  Chapter Nine

  Draagon pasted his phony, patronizing smile on his face and stood to greet the envoy from the local village. He'd spent a great deal of time perfecting his "faces" in the years before the Phantom Riders. He liked to think of this expression as his "beneficent god" face. It was his favorite face because he knew it infuriated the peons under his control.

  Control was more than having the biggest army or the most devastating weaponry. Control was subtle. Control was smiling at your enemy with just enough sincerity on your face that he never saw the blade you slipped between his ribs. Control was the knowledge that every word, every gesture, held the promise of life or death and they couldn't do a single thing about it.

  The trio of full-time farmers serving as part-time town council was no different from the hundreds of men just like them he’d dealt with over the years. Regardless of the size of the city, town or hamlet, all it took to gain their cooperation and, eventually, control of their pitiful communities was the correct wording of his demands. Most men--and these three were no exception--would quickly concede defeat when forced to watch the rape of their wives and daughters.

  He wasn't always so … excessive … in his actions. He’d tried any number of alternative actions to gain the attention of the locals, some more effective than others. Burning the town, for example, guaranteed he got their attention but the loss of monetary gain for his Phantom Riders made it an unacceptable choice unless none of his other options worked.

  "Lord
Draagon," the leader of the group stepped forward, "we have done what you asked. Your Riders now control the town and all of our weapons. When will you release our families?"

  Flicking an imaginary speck of dust from the immaculate gray wool uniform, Draagon ignored the comments. Only when he could smell the fear and loathing in his guests did he acknowledge the question.

  "My dear mayor," he drawled, while fingering the cluster of misshapen crystals suspended from a thick silver chain around his neck, "did I not make myself clear? I don’t recall asking you to do anything. I seem to remember that my comments were more in keeping with a demand. Don’t you agree?"

  He loved it when these weak, pitiful excuses for men wanted to argue with him. Occasionally, there was even one foolish enough to try and fight him. Maybe one of these disgusting farmers had enough balls to try it. He was so very bored.

  "Of course, Lord Draagon. Your demands. When …."

  "Don’t question me again," Draagon interrupted. "Your wives will be released within the hour. Unfortunately, mayor, your daughter will be our guest for a while longer. It seems the captain of the guard has formed an … attraction … for the girl."

  "Noooooo! Lord Draagon, I beg you. She’s only fourteen summers."

  "Calm yourself, man. Think of this as a training period. Should she survive her training I’ll arrange an advantageous marriage for her. Much more than she could hope for in this miserable hole. Don't you agree?"

  "I'll kill you! With my bare hands …."

  "Take this load of garbage out of here and kill them.” Draagon turned and left the room. No one dared questioned his orders. He selected his Phantom Riders for their unique abilities. They followed any order--even if he ordered them to take their own lives--without question, without hesitation.