Kleb gave Ayia and Shre a bewildered look. One that told Tarken that the slave bands were a hurdle they had yet to clear.
“It appears you’re in a quandary,” he said to them, probing for confirmation.
“As much as you might wish this,” Ayia returned. “There is no quandary. The issue will be taken care of.”
Tarken angled his head with curiosity. “By whom, Ayia, by Mecor? The deactivating device is kept under lock and key, as heavily guarded as the king himself.”
“As we told you, our man inside is working on that,” Ayia .defended.
“I hope your emissary is well within the king’s trust or he will get nowhere.” Tarken’s tone was taunting. “Rube has only just recently been introduced to the king. I doubt he will be trusted.”
“It is as he says,” Kleb spoke up. “When last I spoke to our advocate, he had yet to determine the location of the device, and he must take care less he be exposed.”
Tarken now had his opening. “I have access to the needed device.” He said nothing more, watching with inward humor as both women went stock still and blinked at him.
Shre then stiffened, and in one swift motion she was at him, pulling her stunner and pressing it to the center of his forehead. “Where is it?” she growled.
Cushla jumped back, gulping down the breath she was about to release, a small squeak emerging from her throat instead.
Tarken merely sighed. “This is getting old, Shre. Zap me or don’t, but your threats are becoming feeble.”
“Listen, you bastard—”
“Put the weapon away, Shre.” Kleb took hold of her wrist.
“After I fry him, Kleb. Return to the castle and search his quarters.”
“It’s not in my quarters and it’s unlikely that you will find it.” Tarken returned, careful to keep his tone cool, his expression inscrutable.
“Hargon crap!” Shre exclaimed. “As if we would trust you.”
“We can trust him,” Kleb intervened. “Master Tarken is a good man. In the solars he’s been slavemaster, he has been kind to us, never using the slave bands without cause. In fact, rarely has he used it, and even when he did, the dose was so mild it was barely effective. Now that I think on it, the slavemaster only seemed to use the bands to stay an unruly slave who’d snapped and was becoming violent. It was more typical that he found alternate means of reprimand.”
“Pain as punishment has always been distasteful to me.” Tarken glanced toward Cushla.
Her gaze averted his, her lips pursing.
He could see she was still angry.
“And what do you think?” Ayia asked Cushla. “You spent a significant amount of time with him. Should we release him?”
Tarken groaned silently. If timing for the posed question could be any worse…
“Hmm…” Cushla tapped her lips with an index finger. She then paced back and forth across the room as if deeply considering it, ignoring Tarken’s narrowing gaze. “I’m not sure.” Cushla then glanced at Tarken but her gaze quickly snapped away. “Killing him might be too harsh, but we could torture and beat him.” There was a definite gleam in her eye as she said it.
“Cushla,” Tarken chided as he could plainly see that she was enjoying this far too much. He recognized that gleam as he’d grown both familiar and fond of that very trait in this gorgeous slave. “I can help you.” His tone soft and sincere, “I want to help you.”
Silence followed his heartfelt declaration.
Kleb finally nodded. “I believe him. Many times over, he has found ways around the multiple of injustices the king has ordered upon the slaves. I myself have benefited from that and I would trust the master with my life, and I believe he is an honorable man.”
Shre slowly lowered her stunner, and Kleb, who still had hold of her wrist, released it.
“I think we should free him,” Ayia concurred and glanced over at Cushla.
The beautiful slave returned nothing more than a shrug.
Well, at least she didn’t protest.
Shre shoved her stunner to the harness on her hip. “We’re running out of time, and it seems I’m outnumbered. We’ll have to trust him.” Moving to the back of the chair, she unlocked the cuffs.
Tarken brought his arms forward and rubbed his wrists while rolling and stretching his shoulders.
While he was attempting to ease the cramping, Shre bent and sent a hard warning to his ear. “Hear this, slavemaster. If for one moment you hinder us, our intended fate for Mecor will also become yours.”
“Noted.” He stood and immediately approached Cushla. “The thought that I might never see you again was the worst of my night fears…” He reached out to touch her but thought better of it for the moment. “I never meant to give you cause to doubt—”
A crack broke his words as she delivered a stinging smack to the side of his face, his head jerking slightly with the impact. Righting his head, he stared at her.
The fire that lit in her eyes was a clear signal that she was still quite furious. That, and the fact she clenched her teeth like a wild arangazin beast, her nostrils flaring.
He was sure she was about to hoof the floor and charge at him.
“Your worst night fear will be me—if you ever use the slave band on me again,” Cushla growled. Pivoting, she stalked to the opposite side of the room, putting a large amount of space between them. “Do not ever touch me again, Tarken.”
“Well, if you two love birds are finished playing,” Ayia snorted with humor.
Though his heart was sinking, Tarken thought better of trying to plead with Cushla further, of telling her his true feelings for her. It would have to wait. He turned to the others. “Tell me of these plans.”
At first no one spoke, as if they were still reluctant to include him, so Tarken took a seat at the table and held out his hand to indicate another empty chair, inviting them to join him.
It was Ayia who accepted first, taking a seat at the table. “It will be a two prong attack,” she began and then gazed at Shre. “Give me the compu-pad.”
Shre twisted her mouth to one side, hesitated and then she too took a seat at the table. She pulled a compu-pad from her pocket, opened it and slid it along the table top toward Tarken. Leaning back in the chair, she folded her arms and sighed.
Picking up the pad, Tarken gazed at the secured screen. “The code?” he queried.
With a huff, Shre snatched it back from him. “I still have misgivings about this,” she mumbled, tapped the screen a few times and slid it back toward him.
Tarken stopped it with his hand again. Picking up the device, he examined the screen. On it, there were maps, strategic diagrams, and the various plans they’d established. Upon studying the contents further, he concluded that their plan was well thought out and complex. Just as good as highly trained military commanders would’ve schemed. He was relieved that they seemed to know what they were doing.
Ayia leaned over and tapped a drawing on the screen. “The slaves will attack from inside the grounds against the guards there.” She pointed. “And we have another group that will attack from outside the gates. Now, tell us how you will initiate the deactivation of the slave bands.”
“Beneath the floorboard in my quarters there is a panel that controls the bands and the belts…”
“I thought you said it wasn’t in your quarters?” Shre gave him an accusatory look. “Lying already?”
“Beneath the floorboards is not inside of my quarters, Vialin.” Tarken stared at her and then paused before continuing, “Do you want my help or not?”
“Just shut up about it and continue,” Ayia chimed in.
“I have access to the sub panel,” Tarken went on. “The master panel, which has the capability of overriding mine, is inside the palace itself. I can get to the one in my quarters easily enough, but getting to the other one might be a little trickier, especially if Mecor sees me in the castle uninvited. He might suspect that something is amiss. If Rube is able to create a diver
sion from inside the castle, I can attempt to get to it, but I will still need to find a way in, where I will not be seen.”
“There are secret passages all over the palace,” Cushla volunteered while still facing away from him. “I can show you.”
“Your father is aware of them,” Ayia stated. “He’s agreed to take care of that.”
While they continued to discuss the plans, Tarken occasionally glanced in Cushla’s direction, hoping she would turn around so he could glimpse her beautiful face, to give him encouragement for this risky undertaking. There were lives at risk here including his own, but he needed to do this—for her, for her freedom, and that of the oppressed and tormented Buranis yes, but still mostly for her—and the future he wanted to live with her.
“Alright then,” Shre said as they concluded the planning. “Let’s make sure everything and everybody is in place.”
When they prepared to leave, it was then that Cushla decided to face them. “And what about me? What am I supposed to do?”
“You will stay put,” Tarken commanded. Blasted starfires…He gave himself a mental kick in the ass. If he ever wanted her to forgive him the last thing he should’ve done was make a demand of her.
“Like demon’s hell…I’m staying here!” She crossed her arms over her chest. Scorn was the only name he could give the expression on her face as she glared at him.
“Lippy for a slave isn’t she?” Shre snickered.
Kleb broke in at that moment, “Granddaughter, it would be better if you did stay here out of harm’s way.
She gaped at him. “I hate Mecor as much as you all do, and I am no longer a child. I want to be a part in his annihilation. Aside from that…look what happened the last time I was supposedly safe.” She pointed up at her slave band.
“I know little bird,” Kleb continued, “but it’s different this time.”
“I agree,” Ayia spoke up, “Cushla, it would be better if you did stay here, in case your father returns. We’ll need him to know of the slavemaster’s involvement and that we’ve moved on to the next phase.”
“Fine.” Cushla crossed one arm over the other, though she eyed them angrily.
Tarken was relieved they were all in agreement that she should remain behind and safe. He could only pray that he too, would be able to safely return to her, that they would all be safe, and the loss of lives would be few.
Chapter Twenty Four
“You fucking dust wipe!” Bazil tightened his fist around the material of Rube’s vest and jerked the royal toward him. His nostrils flared, their faces nearly touching. “How dare you lure me further into this plot! I told you, I told Shre Valin, Ayia and the rest of your rebel lot that I want nothing to do with this. I’m not a citizen of Buranis but was only hired by Jansee Mecor—”
“Yes, yes.” Rube waved a nonchalant hand through the air. “I know your story. You were a scientist and the personal physician for Anzer’s brother and when he was overthrown you had no intention of staying. No need to repeat yourself, Bazil.”
Bazil’s fist tightened on Rube’s lapel, and he gnashed his teeth in irritation. “You have the matrix of secret tunnels on your compu-pad, Rube. So do Ayia and Vialin. I’ve done what you asked.”
“I cannot open them all myself.” Rube shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s not my problem!” Bazil growled. “Get one of your rebels to help. I have but one goal now, getting my daughter safely off this hell blazing planet. If anything happens to her—”
“As I’ve told you, Bazil, your daughter is safe,” Rube replied. “And being unfamiliar, it will be difficult for me to locate the passages. You already know where they are.”
“A-a-gh!” He pushed Rube away, watching him stumble a bit before re-balancing his stance. Pivoting, Bazil put his back to the royal. “There’s more at stake than the liberation of Buranis.”
“You will assist us further then?”
“I swear to you, royal, if this plan goes awry and I am forced to alter the muartzin stones, I will have your balls on a slab and fed to the crizzy beast for supper.” Dragging his fingers through his hair, Bazil turned to face Rube again. He was thoroughly irritated and fed up. He wanted it to be done with this! He wanted off this piss-poor, dump of a planet, take his daughter and go home. Inhaling, Bazil calmed himself and continued, “Do you really want to risk letting such a lethal weapon fall into Mecor’s hands?”
“What lethal weapon might that be?”
Rube and Bazil both snapped their heads toward the intruder who’d just spoken.
“Who the hell let you loose?” Bazil stalked toward Tarken. “How much did you hear?” Drawing his stunner, he pressed it upward and into Tarken’s nostrils causing his nose to crinkle.
“I’m getting very weary of having weapons pointed at my person, Bazil.” Tarken wrapped his hand around the barrel and moved it aside. “If the horde of you is so reluctant to shoot, perhaps you should ditch this asinine rebellion, less you all perish.”
Rube chuckled and leaned against the stone wall surrounding the perimeter of the castle. “Friend or foe slavemaster?”
Tarken folded his arms across his chest. “That would depend on which side you are on.”
“Which side do you think I’m on?” Rube gave him a side-long look.
“I’m speculating you’re the man inside?”
Rube returned a smirk. “I might be.”
“Well since it was Kleb, who convinced Vialin and Ayia to set me free, I suppose that makes me a…” Tarken hesitated. “An acquaintance.”
“How much do you know?” Bazil asked, he scanned the top of the wall and then pulled his time piece checking to see how close they were to passing of the guards.
“Almost everything, though I failed to ask your role in this because of the lack of time.” Tarken scanned the wall as well and he too, checked his time piece before returning it to his pocket. “We have a bit of time.” His eyes lowered to gaze at Bazil. “Now, what is your role in this, Cushla’s role? What do the muartzin stones have to do with you?”
“Where’s my daughter slavemaster?” Bazil rubbed his forehead. “Is she safe?”
“We left her in town. Told her to stay put,” Kleb informed his son. “She was insisting on accompanying us, but we needed to keep her safe, so I told her it was imperative to await your return while we informed you that the next phase was being initiated.”
“Now, what of the stones?” Tarken angled his head and stared at Bazil.
“We don’t have time for this,” Rube protested.
Tarken’s gaze shifted to the royal. He fingered the stunner strapped to his thigh. “I could always query Mecor about it.” His attention returned to Bazil. “Let him know you’re on the planet.”
“Not if we decide to zap you first,” Rube answered.
“Fine,” Tarken said. “Let me put it to you this way. I am no friend of Mecor’s. In fact I detest the king and his practices. I have agreed to help your cause as I too wish to leave this planet and never look back.”
Rube gave Bazil and indecisive shrug but then commented. “If Shre and Ayia release him, they must think he’s trustworthy.”
“I can assist with the hidden passageways and get this done more quickly,” Tarken added. “And then you and your daughter can be free of Buranis once and for all.”
Bazil swiped a hand along his jaw while seemingly considering Tarken’s words He sheathed his stunner. “Fine, then let’s do this.”
He began to move, but Tarken grasped him by the upper arm. “What of the stones?”
“I’ll tell you about the stones after we are out of sight.” Bazil glanced briefly to where Tarken held him and then turned his attention upward toward the castle’s wall. “A guard is about to pass along the top of the perimeter and we need to make ourselves scarce. There’s a secret entrance just a short distance down, lets head in that direction.”
Tarken released Bazil and followed the two men to a rocky area.
Bazil
pressed his hand to what seemed to be several non-descript areas of the wall. A nearby rock, which abutted the wall rolled to reveal a door concealed behind it. He rapped the door’s surface twice at the top, then once at the bottom and it swung inward. They passed through and entered a hidden corridor that was within the castle walls and Bazil closed the door behind them.
Tarken curiously watched the entire process of revealing the passageways.
“The rocks slide back into place,” Bazil answered Tarken’s unasked question, “Closing the door triggers it.”
“Fascinating. Heat activated latches?”
Bazil nodded. “I’ll bet you thought the walls were solid.”
“I did.” Tarken looked left first and then right. When the door was closed a track of lights came on to illuminate the interior. “Does the entire castle wall have a corridor within?”
“No.”
“According to the mapping you supplied me…” Rube studied his compu-pad. “If we take the direction I’m facing, we’ll end up in the castle latrine next to saunas and solarium. The passage in front of me leads to an underground docking station for the king’s personal star cruiser.”
“Correct,” Bazil confirmed. “We should damage it in case Mecor attempts to escape during the revolt. We don’t want him to get away.”
“Before we go any further, Bazil.” Tarken folded his arms. “I want to know about the stones.
“Very well.” Bazil blew out a gust of air. “The muartzin stones have a use that is of utmost importance to Mecor.”
“Yes, I am aware of this. Mecor is profiting obscenely from selling them. They’re quite rare and desirable gems.”
“He has an ulterior motive.” Shaking his head from side to side, Bazil dropped his chin in disgust. “The stones have other properties that if misdirected can cause great devastation.”
“How so?” Tarken asked curiously.
“Originally I was using the stones to increase the breathable atmosphere in the rooms of patients in need, but a good scientist rarely uses an intervention without understanding how it works— so I began running tests.”
Slavemaster's Woman, The Page 24