Slavemaster's Woman, The

by Angelia Whiting

  “And?”

  Again, Bazil sighed as though he dreaded giving the answer. “It was a dark dawning in the heavens when Anzer overthrew the throne and began threatening the lives of my wife and daughter, of the citizens of Buranis.” He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they glistened with tears that threatened to fall. “Anzer is ruthless.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Bazil,” Tarken groused. “Get to the point.”

  “I discovered that by changing just one of the chemical properties of the stones, it would have the reverse affect.”

  Tarken narrowed his eyes. “Reverse affect. What do you mean?”

  “By manipulating the composition, the stones will neutralize the atmospheres on planets, thus making them uninhabitable.”

  “And causing all life there upon them to suffocate,” Rube added.

  “That would explain the stockpiles Mecor has been gathering.” Tarken thought aloud. “But why sell so many if they can be used as a weapon?”

  “I also designed a device that could alter the properties remotely.”

  “Well-placed loyals to the king could alter the stones with the push of a button,” Rube further explained. “A perfect and quick form of genocide.”

  “Control through threatened suffocation.” Tarken’s disgust of Anzer Mecor heightened further. “He could take control of many worlds with such power.”

  “Wherever the stones exist, and the atmosphere can be restored just as easily,” Rube added. “In fact, just the mere threat of annihilation as such, may be all Mecor needs to crush even the greatest empires and enslave their people.”

  “And that is why he seeks you?” Tarken questioned Bazil.

  “Yes. I destroyed the device once I realized its capabilities, and the formula to convert the stones is up here and nowhere else.” Bazil tapped the side of his head.

  “I’ve had sources reporting that the king has had scientists attempting to convert the stones and duplicate the device, but they have failed continuously,” Rube informed them. “He’s been searching for Bazil’s whereabouts for solars.”

  “Until now I remained well-hidden but—” Bazil began.

  “Mecor found Cushla first,” Tarken sneered. “He was using her to flush you out. I suspected as much. I was unsure as to why though.”

  “And now you know the full story.” Bazil glanced at his time piece. “Let’s get on with this. We need to get to the king’s star cruiser and destroy it.” He headed down the corridor.

  Tarken and Rube followed as the path descended and it was apparent they were moving underground.

  “Mecor had two converted stones left behind by Bazil,” Rube told Tarken. “Originally, the converted stones could be activated by being shattered. As an experiment and a warning, he used one of them on a small satellite belonging to Shalcardon, Shre Vialin’s home planet. She was away at the time but her family was on the satellite and they all perished.”

  “Ledoria.” Tarken nodded. He paused in his pace to look at Rube, who stopped as well. “I was very young warrior with the Vallis forces at the time. We had information that there was a devastating occurrence there. One of our units was sent to investigate, but nothing could be proven and it was documented as anomaly. Several thousand were found dead. It was a tragic event.”

  “Mecor is a vile and cruel monster,” Bazil commented as he halted. “He will forego nothing to achieve his schemes, mainly becoming a ruler supreme in the galaxy.”

  “Credits and power,” Tarken stated. “Always the same game.”

  “Let’s keep moving.” Bazil began his trek again. “We haven’t much time left and there’s much to do.”

  Within a short time, they passed through an open archway and entered a large chamber. Tarken glanced around, first taking a gander at the state of the art cruiser that was positioned in the center of the room.

  Bazil and Rube headed toward it.

  Tarken halted and glanced at the control panel against a section of the carved out stone wall, and then angled his head toward the smoothened ceiling. An enormous double-door trap covered most of it, large enough for the cruiser to egress through. He racked his brain, attempting to determine where on the topside the escape hatch might be hidden but came up empty. “Tell me, what of the other stone?” Tarken joined the other men at the star cruiser.

  “It’s secured in the castle,” Rube answered while crawling out from beneath ship.

  “It was only a small sampling, a pebble at best.” Bazil ran his fingers along the outer edge of the ship. “But enough to suffocate the entire castle and the nearby town, before dissipating.”

  “I’ve been attempting to locate it as many fear that Mecor may use it against the rebels during the uprising,” Rube piped in.

  “Only if he himself is able to escape,” Bazil continued. “Which is why we must destroy this thing. Damn! Have you located the trip for the hatch release yet, Rube?”

  “Not yet.” Rube scratched his temple. “Maybe we should just smash it.”

  Tarken shook his head. Walking toward the starboard side, he located a very discreet panel, found the release and the hatch to the cruiser unlatched at the top, rotating open from a hinged bottom. Three steps were on the inside of it. “Military training.” Tarken shrugged at the two men, smirking at their dumbfounded expressions.

  “I suppose you have a use,” Rube finally commented.

  The three of them entered the cruiser, their boots clanking up the three metal stairs and were immediately in cockpit.

  Tarken, who was behind Rube and Bazil, pushed through them going directly to the flight panel. Lying on the floor, he began tinkering with the components beneath it.

  “What do you think you’re doing slavemaster?” Bazil inquired.

  With his attention on what he was doing, his hands fishing around he answered, “I don’t think damaging this bucket would be wise. Disabling it would be better just in case we might need to escape.” He yanked, pulling out a small spindle. “There.” Standing, he tossed it into the air. It flipped a full rotation and he snatched it into the palm of his hand. “It won’t fire up without this.” He tossed it to Rube.

  The royal neatly caught the device and began examining it.

  Tarken surveyed the area, then strolled over to another panel in the wall and slid it open. “Spares, good, that was easy enough. He then removed the spindles inside, slapped one into Bazil’s hand and then pocketed the other. “We’re done. Let’s go.” Without waiting for a comment, Tarken exited the ship.

  After exchanging another round of dumbfounded glances, Rube and Bazil followed. They spoke little as they returned to the corridor, crossed the area where they entered from the outside and continued moving toward the opposite end.

  Bazil checked his compu-pad and then counted out the bricks on what appeared to be a solid wall in front of them. Simultaneously, he pressed two of the bricks with the palm of his hands. The wall receded, gliding across the floor smoothly and silently, leaving a small opening that they could barely fit through. Peering into the narrow gap, he checked the room on the other side before shimmying though.

  Rube and Tarken were quick to follow. They now entered the showering and changing area of the castle’s solarium.

  Tarken had been in this room several times before, when he’d brought female slaves at Mecor’s bidding. Where he was once removed emotionally from the king’s doings, the thought of what Mecor had done with those women now turned his stomach. He’d only hoped the tales of the king’s sadistic nature where exaggerated rumors, but now he highly doubted it.

  Quietly, the three men crossed chamber, passing through an open archway to the indoor garden.

  It was a large, ornate room completely white and constructed with the finest arblem stone that credits could buy. Several pillars surrounded an oval-shaped pool, carving the center of the room. A waterfall cascaded into it, the serenity of the flowing liquid creating a pleasant, rela
xing sound. Urns that were constructed of the same expensive arblem stone were placed throughout the room. In them, fresh foliage and flowers had been planted, the colors a brilliant contrast against the white stone. Rays of sunshine burst through an angled glass ceiling and long glass wall that faced the castle’s courtyard entrance, the brightness in the space further enhanced by the sparkling stone the room was made of.

  Cushla’s eyes came to Tarken’s mind, as he recalled the first time he’d seen them, how fiercely beautiful they were, even as they pierced him with fury. He smiled warmly. He loved her…and he hadn’t told her. His smile faded. If this plan went awry before he could tell Cushla how he felt about her, Tarken would never forgive himself.

  No…

  For the first time in eons, the numbness in his heart had faded, and Cushla was the reason. All would be well. He would hold his freebird again.

  “Shit!” Rube uttered the expletive.

  Tarken and Bazil pivoted, their attention following the line of Rube’s gaze to where he stared through the glass walls, pointing to the outside.

  Cushla was at the gate and being roughly apprehended by two of the guards, a third standing by and watching.

  “That girl never listens!” Having spewed the words simultaneously, Tarken and Bazil exchanged glances while shaking their heads at the same time.

  “Well this complicates things a bit.” Rube turned to the two men.

  Tarken stepped closer to the wall of glass and they all watched Cushla being dragged across the castle’s courtyard toward the main entrance. The double doors opened and they continued to drag her through it, disappearing on the other side.

  “Always the impetuous and tenacious child!” Bazil huffed.

  “It remained the same, despite her being a slave,” Tarken grumbled.

  Bazil turned to Rube. “You and the slavemaster will have to deal with the passageways yourselves. I’m going to get my daughter.”

  “No,” Tarken asserted. “If Mecor gets a hold of you Bazil, Cushla’s life will be in greater danger. He will use her to persuade you to surrender to his bidding with the stones. I will go get her.”

  Bazil’s lip curled into a sneer. “Now see here slavemaster…” He poked a finger at the center of Tarken’s chest.

  “I have a better chance at getting through the castle. Also, if I’m confronted by any of the guards, I have a better chance of taking them down, than you do.”

  “Military training.” Rube shrugged as he looked at Cushla’s father. “I agree with him. He should go.”

  “You can’t go anywhere if you can’t get out.”

  Their heads snapped around in response to the female voice behind them.

  Juliada …

  The female royal who’d snuck into Tarken’s quarters moons ago, stood just inside the solarium door.

  Stars bedamned! How they had failed to hear her enter was a major blunder. Even worse, she held a security remote in her hand. While her thumb slid across it she smiled shrewdly and then activated it.

  There was an echoing click that had them all cringing. They were locked in.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “Quit with the games, Juliada.” Rube approached her.

  Before he could reach her, Juliada shoved the remote down her pants and then immediately wrapped the long, sleeveless tunic she wore around her body as if to further protect it.

  “Like that would stop me,” Rube snorted.

  “It will if I tell you that I will scream, call the guards and cry rape.”

  “I’m a royal, Juliada, and your cousin. I will merely tell them you’re just being a bitch.”

  Juliada snorted and then peeked around Rube, her gaze falling to Tarken. “The slavemaster can retrieve it.” She grinned.

  Tarken groaned inwardly. He couldn’t believe the bad fortune of having Juliada catch them. The woman had been a thorn in his side ever since he’d taken the position of slavemaster. He’d hoped that when he took her up against the wall, making a quick and furious job of it, she would find him undesirable and leave him be, but the woman never ceased to pursue him. She even had the audacity to turn up a few times at the taverns he frequented, completely unabashed at being seen in places that royals were unlikely to be seen. Turning, he looked at her long slim frame.

  Hades blazes, and here she was again prowling after him like horny lubtip beast!

  Her features proclaimed her royal blood, the fine bone structure, the flowing auburn hair, and the blue-green eyes. However, the beauty she was so proud of was really only skin deep. In her core, she was a vicious, mean-spirited harpy.

  Unfortunately, he had to get the security remote from her, so he could get to Cushla before the revolt began. Sighing inwardly, Tarken regrettably knew what he had to do. “Juliada.” He made his voice deliberately low and alluring. It had the desired effect as he noticed the little shiver she gave at the sound of her name on his tongue.

  Walking seductively toward Tarken, she all but purred at him, “I have missed you slavemaster. Why have you been away from my bed for so long?”

  “I recall nothing of being in your bed, Juliada,” he answered, which technically was the truth.

  “Of course,” Juliada cooed. “You’re much more creative than that, my sexy slavemaster. The castle corridor was quite memorable.”

  Rube and Bazil’s brows both rose. Bazil began to say something but Rube motioned for him to remain silent. “What are you doing here Juliada?” Rube asked.

  “Something is going to happen. I can feel it in the air. The tension…” Her gaze returned to Tarken. “The anticipation.” She smoothed her hands over her stomach and her breasts as she gave Tarken a smoldering look.”It excites me.” She took another step closer to him. “I thought we could have fun like we used to. You remember don’t you, Tarken? It was so glorious! The way you left me I could barely speak my own name.” She smiled seductively at him. “They way you took me against the hard, stone wall, your lust for me at its rawest.”

  Bazil’s face reddened, the outrage that seemed to be simmering barely suppressed.

  Rube cautioned him with a hand on his shoulder and a squeeze.

  Tarken let his gaze travel her length, when he met her gaze again he ran his tongue over his lips.

  Juliada’s breathing became fast and shallow.

  “Ach yes, Juliada, I remember. I could think of nothing else for dawnings after.” In truth, he felt lowly and used, though the experience did give him some perspective on what the slaves often endured being forced into sex. It aided in softening his approach at sexing the female slaves for training.

  It also aided in his method of approach with Cushla when he had first bedded her—Cushla…Tarken’s mind flitted to thoughts of her. He missed her terribly, the sweetness of her smell, her beautiful face, the softness of her skin beneath his touch…her voice. Even in wrath, her voice soothed Tarken’s insides—his beloved, intelligent and vexing woman.

  He didn’t have to force the enamored smile that creased his lips as he thought about Cushla, a smile that Juliada clearly thought was meant for her, Tarken realized. Now refocusing on the royal, he saw she returned a smile of her own, and he concentrated on the matter at hand and continued with his ploy. “I have tried to find the time to return to you.” He reached out, and Juliada placed her hand in his. He drew her closer as he raised her hand to his lips where he gave it a soft kiss. “But being in service to the king keeps me very busy.”

  She looked up into his eyes, and he could see her desire burning brightly. “You should have said something to me. I would’ve talked to the king. He grants me anything I desire—and I would’ve told him that I desire you.”

  Leaning closer to her, he inhaled her scent, she smelled of spices, flowers and lust. It did nothing for him, nothing but flare his desire for Cushla even further. “And I you,” he whispered seductively.

  Again, she shivered.

  Looking around the room, Tarken spotted a white cabana with a plush lounge bed
inside. The curtains could be closed for privacy. Nodding towards it, he guided her in that direction. “This will suit our purpose I think.”

  As they stepped closer to the cabana, Rube blocked their path. “Enough Juliada. Hand over the remote. We don’t have time for your nonsense.” Rube held his hand out in anticipation.

  She gave him an irritated look. “Stars Rube, you’re such a buzz kill.”

  “And you have always been a pain in the ass, cousin. Hand it over.”

  Juliada pulled her hand from Tarken’s, gave him one last look of longing and then sighed, her mouth twisting into a frown. Reaching down her pants, she retrieved the remote and slapped it into his hand. Crossing her hands over her chest with a scowl, she turned her face away from him, her chin lifting a notch.

  Tarken was baffled. “What the hell is going on?” He looked between Rube and Juliada, waiting for an explanation.

  “She’s our inside person…and my cousin,” Rube informed both Tarken and Bazil.

  “I thought you were the inside person.” Tarken and Bazil replied simultaneously. They seemed to be doing that a lot.

  Rube grinned and walked to the pool, grabbing one of the folded towels from a bench on the way. Kneeling, he dipped the cloth the water and began to wipe off the remote. Looking over his shoulder he quipped, “You weren’t feigning about being aroused were you Juliada?”

  She blushed deeply and grimaced.

  “I’m the second inside person, but Juliada can get into places I cannot,” Rube continued. He stood, tossed the towel aside and snickered as he examined the remote. “I don’t think you short circuited the thing.” Still smirking, he glanced over at Tarken. “Imagine finding me naked in your bed slavemaster.”

  “What in hellfires are you insinuating?” Tarken lifted a brow. “I didn’t think you swung that way royal.”

  Juliada began to laugh. “The dawning you found me in your bed—what do you think I was doing there? I was searching for the control pad. When you retuned, I had to hide in plain sight.”