Dragon Defense (Heirs to the Throne Book 3)

by Diane Rapp

  Salizar spoke to his mother in their language and the woman left the room. She returned a moment later with a tray of carefully arranged cheese and fruit.

  “You were prepared for guests, I see.” Lauryn gave the woman a sarcastic smile. She sat in the stiff chair and tasted a chunk of cheese.

  Salizar brushed past her and settled on the other chair, waiting for his mother to pour him a drink before he picked up a plump pear. “Infidel women brazenly display their faces in public. Is your father stupid? He let you travel unprotected into a foreign land. Why?” Salizar spoke with unfeigned curiosity as he enjoyed the pear, wiping the juice from his fingers onto his tunic.

  “I’m a healer. I choose my own path, and father respects my choices. Your people are sick, dying from radiation poisoning. I wanted to help.” Lauryn stared at the cheese in her hand as she spoke. “I’m free to choose my own work and who I marry.”

  Salizar’s eyes widened. “Marriages are not arranged? I can’t believe such foolishness.”

  Lauryn set the cheese down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she tried to make him understand. “Some lords arrange marriages but not my father. He believes I should marry for love and allows me to choose for myself.”

  Salizar grinned. “Good. Then he’ll understand why I must marry Tamarind! I love her.”

  “Does Tamarind love you?” Lauryn asked and popped a grape into her mouth.

  “Of course, I’ve seen it in her eyes.” Salizar’s gaze turned sultry, and his mouth curled into a seductive grin.

  Lauryn groaned and rubbed her forehead. “You haven’t asked her?”

  He waved the question away and took a swallow from his cup. “In our land, a man does not ask the woman. He buys a bride or steals one. Asking a woman to agree brings shame upon her family.”

  “Great!” Lauryn stood and rested her fists against her hips. “You must let me talk with Alex about the idea. He’s more likely to bend to persuasion than threats or blackmail.”

  “You would negotiate the matter on my behalf?” Salizar gasped and bowed his head before her. “A royal negotiator is an honor I never dreamed of requesting.”

  “Yes, I’ll negotiate. If Tamarind desires this marriage, we’ll help you fake the kidnapping. Is that agreed?”

  He stood and paced the room, rubbing his chin as he thought about the proposal. “Agreed, but you will not be allowed near the princess in the guise of a boy.”

  Lauryn shrugged and popped another grape into her mouth. “I’ll figure out a way to speak with her in private. Could you take me back to my friends now?”

  “Yes, princess.” He let his eyes examine her face with open appreciation and stepped forward. “I’d almost believe an infidel princess might be worth stealing for my bride.”

  She nearly choked on the grape and held up her hand to stop him. “Your customs are not mine, Salizar. We allow only one bride per husband, and you’ve got a different princess in mind.”

  He shrugged and nodded for his mother to unlock the door.

  Within an hour Lauryn sat comfortably explaining Salizar’s exchange of favors with bewildered friends.

  “How does he expect us to steal Tamarind from the palace?” Andrew frowned. “Does he think we’re miracle workers?”

  “Aren’t we?” Maggie said, “We claim to work miracles in repairing a decrepit reactor, and we’d better start performing.”

  Dr. Alexander shook his head. “Without advanced technology, our chances are slim.”

  Lauryn frowned. “You discover solutions when they’re needed most! As for Salizar, perhaps Tamarind can help.”

  “What? I can’t imagine that vixen helping,” Andrew said.

  “Don’t be too sure,” Dr. Alexander said, “since she’s in love with the lad. If we secure her cooperation, he might have a chance.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Lauryn clapped her hands. “I thought I sensed something between those two.”

  “Oh, yes. The girl is infatuated with him,” Dr. Alexander stated. “I heard her thoughts on the subject.”

  “It’s nice to have someone around who hears the headblind. How do we get them together?” Lauryn asked.

  Maggie said, “Why should we try? Her father has another fat pasha lined up to buy her. Why not just let things ride?”

  Andrew held up his hands. “If a young man can’t afford the price of the girl he loves, he steals her. The girl’s father fumes and spouts threats but a young husband who demonstrates great courage is as good as a rich husband. The girl retains her value because she’s important enough to steal. The marriage comes off well in the end.”

  Maggie nodded. “I think one of us should chat with Tamarind and see what can be arranged.”

  “Since Lauryn is officially a boy, you’re the only one who qualifies, Maggie,” Andrew said.

  “I’ll request an audience through the Samurai women,” Maggie said.

  Andrew nodded. “Offer to present her with a gift; that usually strikes a chord.”

  “What kind of gift?” Maggie asked.

  Andrew stared at the floor. “The most proper gift from an older woman is a fertility symbol. Purchase one from the market.”

  “I’ll go shopping tomorrow!” Maggie said.

  Andrew looked troubled. “Lauryn, did you agree to become a negotiator. He used that word specifically?”

  “Yes.”

  Andrew frowned and shook his head. “We’d better steal Tamarind quickly.”

  Maggie stared. “What’s wrong?”

  “In desert tradition, the negotiator is oath bound to perform the task.”

  “Yes.” Lauryn nodded. “Salizar said he was oath bound to bring Tamarind back to her father. After that his oath was fulfilled.”

  Andrew gazed at Lauryn. “As a negotiator, if you fail to complete the task, you take Tamarind’s place.”

  “What?” Lauryn cried. “That can’t be right.”

  “A negotiator pledges his life or service until he carries out the task. In this case, if you cannot supply one princess you’ll take her place. It’s the law of the desert. You told Salizar your father allows you choose your own husband. We can’t claim that Donovan must approve.”

  Lauryn rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers. “So that’s why he agreed so fast. I thought asking Tamarind if she wanted the marriage made sense.”

  “He saw the sense all right. If Tamarind refuses the marriage, you become his wife. He can’t lose.” Andrew sounded serious. “In desert culture marriage agreements are enforced by tribal war if necessary.”

  Lauryn looked at Maggie. “Do a good sales job with Tamarind. My future hangs in the balance.”

  17 ~ CAPTURING FREMONT

  Bryant watched the shuttle hover overhead, a silver shape illuminated by moonlight. He held his breath, praying they guessed right about the landing site. The shuttle gently settled to the ground, but Bryant held back and counted heartbeats.

  Clang.

  The ominous sound shattered the silence as a door opened. A spacer peered into the night, outlined against the internal glow of the ship. A flashing display of lights looked similar to the castle’s control room.

  The man climbed out and dashed toward the castle with the fluid grace of a predator. Bryant left his guards behind to capture the shuttle pilot while he stalked the wary spacer. He knew every flaw in the castle grounds. His adversary, unaccustomed to exercising stealth under double moons, crunched through dry leaves, tripped over uneven stepping stones, and brandished a weapon that reflected moonlight.

  Bryant hugged the deepest red shadows and tread across the softest areas of grass. His breathing mimicked the sound of a sighing breeze, a trick Marasuta taught him. He crept close holding his dagger tight against his body.

  Although the spacer betrayed himself with each step, the deadly weapon he brought equalized mistakes. Donovan described the power of spacer weapons, a technology outlawed on Drako, and Bryant understood the spacer’s advantage. His atten
tion riveted on the weapon, Bryant deliberated on methods of disarming the spacer.

  He wished he’d set up an ambush!

  *****

  Julian’s fingers moved over the control panel, afraid to actually press the buttons. “Show me the chart again, Caston. What do these keys do?”

  “It’s right here.” Caston held the book open for Julian and watched his friend’s long fingers press keys with growing confidence.

  Julian grinned. “This screen shows air currents and this one charts topography. It’s like playing a musical keyboard.”

  “I didn’t know you played music,” Caston said.

  Julian looked startled. “I started to learn,” he blushed deeply, “but father forbade it, claimed only women and entertainers should play.”

  “It’s a skill I’d love to learn. Would you teach me what you know after this crisis?”

  Julian smiled. “Sure. Learn this keyboard and music will seem easy.”

  Chella entered the chamber with Ross, Ryan, Catherine and Keisha. “I decided to round up my best students. We might need more help.”

  Julian grinned at his cousin, Ross. “Help me watch this monitor. If you see a blip on the screen, press that button to magnify the image. Keisha, help Caston label the keys from the charts in that book. Ryan and Catherine should learn to manipulate this toggle while I describe the functions already identified.”

  Amazed, Chella listened to Julian. No longer shy, he eagerly took control with a quick mind. She watched the young people work, learning in minutes what she’d struggled an hour to unravel. Julian flashed a concerned glance at her, but she waved him off.

  Chella slipped back into the corridor and made her way to the courtyard entrance, hoping to find Bryant. She slipped into the dark, dressed in the black robes of her order and became nearly invisible.

  Willing herself to stay calm, Chella heard soft footsteps and peered into the dark night. A flicker of light revealed the figure, dressed in a gold Institute uniform. Chella stiffened. She recognized Fremont, the man who sent Jarrack to kill her friends, and hate raged through her mind.

  Chella hugged the rough wall. Bryant charged Fremont but Chella knew he wouldn’t reach Fremont fast enough. Bracing herself, Chella kicked Fremont’s chest but missed the deadly weapon. Stunned, Fremont staggered against the wall but Chella whirled and kicked again. The laser flew out of his hand and Chella rolled to retrieve it.

  Bryant tackled Fremont. The spacer tucked and rolled, dislodging Bryant, as he grabbed for his weapon. Chella’s long fingers snatched the gun as Fremont wrestled to grab the handle. A hot beam seared a nearby bush as Chella fought for control.

  Bryant pressed a dagger against Fremont’s back and growled, “My blade is primitive but effective. Don’t move.”

  Fremont released the laser and raised his hands. Chella exhaled and leaned against the cold stones of the wall. Bryant grinned at her. “I’m real glad you showed up. I never believed that light could kill until now.”

  Fremont and the shuttle pilot sat tied and gagged inside the guard room, and guards carried spacer weapons as if they handled poisonous snakes. Chella flipped safety switches on and slipped two guns into her robe.

  Bryant asked, “What shall we do with them?”

  “Interview them, separately,” Chella suggested.

  “Separately?” Bryant eyed Fremont. “That’s a smart idea. Men! Take them to separate cells in the dungeon. I’ll be right down.”

  “Why don’t you call an emergency Council meeting?” Chella advised.

  “That’s already done. They gather in the Council Chambers as we speak.”

  “Good!” Chella smiled. “An invasion from space might give them something to focus on.”

  Bryant looked surprised. “Is that good?”

  “Faced with a common enemy, they’ll stop bickering.” Her dark eyes glistened. “A leader uses times like this to secure compromises.”

  Bryant grinned. “You have more political savvy than I thought.”

  “I’m a student of human nature, Bryant. Don’t let these robes fool you. I care about Drako, and I’ll fight to protect my friends.” Chella gave him a stern glance. “Let’s ask Fremont a few questions.”

  “Fremont?”

  “He’s the spacer who tried to breach the castle,” she said as they marched toward the dungeon. “Fremont’s a crafty man.”

  “So am I.” Bryant opened a massive iron door and saw guards outside the cells. “Open up. We’ll interrogate the prisoner.”

  Fremont rubbed his swollen jaw, glowering. “You think capturing me will save you?” He growled, “My ship starts firing missiles in exactly…” he checked his timepiece, “forty seven hours and thirty five minutes.”

  Chella clenched her fist. “It’s kind of you to warn us, Fremont.”

  He looked up at the sound of his name and examined her face. “You’re one of Alexander’s team! Good, then the doctor’s on this planet.”

  Bryant’s stern expression signaled Chella to keep silent. He confronted Fremont. “You threaten our planet, so explain why.” Bryant’s voice sounded menacing. “You must want something.”

  Fremont faced Bryant. “Drako harbors fugitives, criminals who must be prosecuted. If you do not yield these criminals, we’re prepared to destroy the planet!”

  Bryant bristled at Fremont’s malice. “Our planetary defense system will repel your attack!”

  Fremont’s eyebrows lifted. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

  “We allowed you to land from curiosity but further breaches won’t be tolerated!”

  Fremont’s laugh echoed through the cell. “If my ship doesn’t receive a coded signal from me, you’ll be vaporized. Give us Dr. Alexander and the Zebulon crew, and we might allow you to live.”

  Bryant stomped out of the cell. Chella followed him and whispered, “I sense he told us the truth.”

  “Yes, I believe him. While I speak with the pilot, go find a way to destroy those missiles.”

  *****

  Julian divided the manual into sections and worked with Catherine and Ryan, while Caston worked with the others. There was too much information to fathom. Chella was inundated with questions as she entered.

  “The shuttle landed but we captured the two occupants,” Chella announced. “We’ve got a bigger problem. The main ship has orders to launch missiles against us in less than forty-eight hours. Study that manual and find a way to deflect their attack.” Her solemn eyes studied the young faces. “Can you do it?”

  Julian chewed a thumbnail as his eyes darted over the keyboard. “The capability is here if we learn how to use it. I’d say it’s possible.”

  Chella flashed him a smile. “What did you discover?”

  Catherine said, “We’ve got the toggle working and Julian set up a practice screen. Timing is the key. Ryan scored one out of five shots.”

  Ryan sighed. “Too many factors influence a good shot, wind speed, angles, and atmospheric conditions. I wish we had an idea which targets they’ll fire at.”

  “Maybe they’ll tell us while you improve your hit ratio.” Chella looked serious. “We can’t afford to miss even one.”

  Julian nodded. “Don’t waste time talking! Get back to work.”

  Feeling dejected, Chella left the room and thought, Given time they’ll improve but hit ratios get worse under pressure. Why’d this happen now? A few days ago, Trenton could man the boards. He’s and expert at this but he’s at the spaceport. I could fly the shuttle and fetch Donovan and Trenton! Can I remember how to fly after all these years? She marched out of the castle, determined to find out.

  *****

  Bryant paced as the lords bickered. He remembered riding into battle with fearless men joined in a common cause but their clock ticked.

  “Lords!” His booming voice silenced the room. “This is not a time for petty quarreling! Drako is at risk from outside attack.” He leaned forward, leaning his fists on the table. “We must al
l work together!”

  The lords squirmed under Bryant’s piercing gaze. “We’ve lived in isolation for centuries, forgetting that our defense system aged while other worlds advanced. Now, we’re tossed in the middle of a conflict. We’re unprepared to fight spacer weapons.” He raised Fremont’s laser, flipped the safety switch off, and fired. A blinding light sliced through a tapestry and melted a steel shield.

  Stunned silence descended on the chamber. “This is a simple spacer hand weapon. Our enemies possess deadly missiles that destroy cities and bombs capable of poisoning our land for centuries. Don’t sit around arguing!”

  “What can we do?” Lord Hembly stammered.

  “Prepare for the worst and survive.” Bryant’s voice sounded controlled. “Send messenger birds to every fief. Instruct people to gather provisions and take cover inside your deepest tunnels. Assemble medical teams to tend wounded.” He paused, a sigh escaping his lips. “Pray your sons learn to operate our defense system to repel the attack.”

  “Where’s King Donovan? Why isn’t he here?” Lord Winslow asked.

  Bryant’s fist pounded the table with a resounding boom. “King Donovan can’t always coddle us, so it’s time we take responsibility. You argue about rights, but those rights carry responsibilities.”

  Lord Hembly stood. “Bryant’s right. Put aside our squabbles and act as one fief to defend Drako. Remember how Jarrack squashed us under an iron fist? Let’s work as neighbors to defeat this enemy from space. I won’t yield without a fight! If spacers overpower us with superior weaponry, I’ll make them believe I cooperate. Then I’ll go underground and defeat them as Queen Krystal defeated Jarrack.”

  “Let’s hope we can prevent them from landing,” Bryant said. “How many pledge to defend Drako?” He waited until every man stood. “Good. We agree to act as one fief until this crisis passes.” Bryant held out his hand while Lord Hembly put his on top. Each man followed suit. “Send out messages and see what can be accomplished. Meet back here in one hour.”