The rider galloped into their camp astride a dark red battle mount.
Both Desmond and Trajan lowered, then sheathed their weapons. It was Kharon. A collective optimism seemed to spread through them all. Even Desmond felt a little bit of relief. His sister's husband looked strong and fit, giving off an aura of power in his black Imperial uniform. When Kharon met Gypsy he lifted her up on his mount facing him.
For the first time since they had left the Empire, Desmond felt a twinge of happiness for them as they embraced and kissed. After everything Gypsy had been through during Kharon's near death from Serillian Fever it gave him some hope for his own situation he might not have otherwise had.
After the war with the Triumvirate, Kharon had returned to the Empire with a virtual death sentence from his infection. But the commander managed to survive despite the odds. Gypsy had been so empty and isolated during her husband’s illness. Desmond was truly worried that if Kharon died, she would just give up completely.
Kharon jumped down pulling Gypsy with him. She took his mount as Kharon approached Desmond cautiously. Krull joined them. “Gypsy told me you have had to make frequent stops because of Scarlet's condition. How is she doing?”
Desmond sighed. “Not good. We’ve only been here a few hours, but we can't stay.”
Krull frowned in Scarlet’s direction. “More than anything she needs a few day’s rest, not just a few hours. The constant bouncing and shaking during the ride is preventing her from healing. If we could find a safe place to rest it would help.”
Kharon lifted his chin in the direction he'd just come. “There is a medical clinic just over the border that we could reach by morning. It is secluded enough that we can probably stay a few days.”
“What about the medical staff? If they know about the bounty, what's to stop them from refusing to help us or giving up our location?” Desmond said, keeping his voice low.
A dark look crossed Kharon’s features. “From all appearances the outpost was attacked. Corpses were all that was left. The building is in disarray, but it looks sound and most of the medical supplies are still there. There are two convalescent beds in the main exam room. It’s far enough off of the Northern trail to avoid detection for a while. I won't lie. It is fucking cold up there and a campfire would be a beacon on a lightless mountain, but it could give Scarlet enough time to gain strength to get to the Queendom.”
Folding his arms, Krull spoke up again. “That sounds ideal, but she cannot take any more jostling. If we continue on, even for another hour, her stitches will tear again and there is barely enough skin left for me to re-suture. I can't guarantee she won't bleed out.”
All three men turned toward Dragon as he walked up to them. His movements were slow and deliberate. First his gaze lingered on Desmond, then Krull, and lastly Kharon. “I can get her there and she won’t feel a thing.”
Desmond shot him a venomous look, already shaking his head. “There is no fucking way you're turning my wife to stone! You don’t even know if you can bring Gavin back.”
Krull opened his mouth to say something but Dragon raised a hand to stay them both. “No. I don't need to change her. I can create a levitation field around her like I did Gavin's statue, but she'll need to be deeply sedated. I can't risk her waking up. If she gets frightened and struggles I may not be able to control the hold on her. We can't risk dropping her.”
Turning to face only Desmond, Dragon gave him a sober stare. “I can do this. Trust me.”
A million thoughts rushed Desmond’s mind. The thought of his wife being touched by sorcery sickened him to his core, but Dragon was right. Scarlet was too sick to ride. She couldn't afford to lose any more blood and a few more hours in the saddle would do just that. Krull had done an exceptional job keeping her going this long, but it wasn't sustainable. This was all they had.
Against every instinct he had, Desmond nodded and said. “Do it.”
* * * *
Gypsy was packing her saddle when she felt Kharon move up behind her. She turned around and smiled, but frowned when she read his expression. His mismatched eyes, one a dull brown and one an arctic blue, were narrow, and his wide brow was wrinkled with worry. She knew whatever he was about to say was going to upset her. Did he change his mind again about staying married? Maybe my affair with Falken really did bother him.
Taking a step back, she bumped into her hyperia and scowled. Then she tightly folded her arms to prepare herself. “You have something to say.”
Kharon reached out and grabbed her forearms. His stern expression softened as he lowered her arms to her sides. Then he took her hands in his and interlaced their fingers together. His hands were gentle, firm, and warm.
“There is something we need to discuss before we get to the outpost.”
“What?” she mumbled, breaking eye contact.
Gypsy tried to wrench her hands free but Kharon held them tight. “If it weren't necessary to go there, I would have kept this from you. I know who did all the killing at the clinic. It was Caraculla. I didn't mention it to the others, but I feared you might figure it out for yourself. It’s a mess there. You need to prepare yourself.”
“How do you know it was him? How can you be so sure? I know him. Caraculla wouldn't attack innocent civilians.” Her voice came out in a harsh whisper, edged in hysteria. No...no...no, he would never do such a thing! Please let Kharon be mistaken.
“The evidence is there if you allow yourself to see it. You’ll understand soon enough. Believe the truth or not. It makes no difference to me. I just thought it better if you knew ahead of time.”
“Why you think it was him? What possible reason would he have?”
“From what I saw, it looks like Caraculla was trying to have his venom spitting ability restored. Unfortunately, it didn't go well. Your mother's skill as a surgeon is peerless, and whoever he forced to attempt the repair must have failed miserably. The exam room is covered in blood and there are surgical instruments strewn about.”
Something in the circumstances resonated with Gypsy. She knew in her heart it probably was Caraculla, but she couldn’t accept it. Not yet. “That doesn’t mean shit! Maybe it was a robbery. Those happen all the time in remote areas.”
Kharon shook his head slowly. “Oh Gypsy, there were Imperial issue boot prints around the slain. They were smaller than my own. The trail we traveled leads straight back to the Northeast and Leviathan's kingdom. It seems obvious to me, but you can infer from that whatever you want.”
“I can’t accept it until I see for myself,” she said pulling her hands from his.
Kharon nodded grimly. “Fair enough.”
Chapter 19
For gods’ sakes! How much longer is that arrogant bitch going to make me wait? I need to find my family. Harlan was close to convincing herself she had been forgotten in this damned cell, but she knew better. Mere moments before she was about to get up and yell out the cell door, Khalee entered swinging a pair of thin manacles around her index finger.
“You're going to see the Queen now. I’m sorry. I have been ordered to restrain you.”
“Are you kidding me? What does her Highness think I'm going to do to her?”
This was ridiculous, but Harlan shouldn't have been surprised. The Queen knew she wasn’t a threat, but apparently it was important to let Harlan know her place. So she stifled any additional argument, turned around, and placed her hands behind her back. Khalee snapped the restraints on Harlan’s wrists.
* * * *
Instead of the throne room, she was led into an elegant library. A high multicolored glass dome lorded over the center allowing dappled rays of colored light to stream onto the gray marble floor. The clean white shelves were full of books, papers, decorative boxes, and scrolls. There were also a wide variety of statuettes and other ornamental items.
There, sitting in a red and gold high-backed chair in the center, with her legs tucked up under her, was the Razorback Queen, Nineveh. As always she looked stunning. Today
she wore a white dress embroidered in a midnight blue pattern of swirls. The sleek flawless fabric was trimmed in small crystal sequins that gave her an angelic, otherworldly quality. Her eyes were a remarkable violet, accentuated by dark eyeliner and long, dark brown hair that had been pulled over to cascade down the front of her left shoulder. As with all Razorbacks, a shock of bright red locks grew from each temple replacing whatever color dominated the rest of their hair. Nineveh’s scarlet locks were braided with silver and bronze ribbons that ended in a petite bow. It didn't matter how benignly you dressed up the venomous warning, they still screamed the word death. All of these things combined to make a beautiful woman out of what was probably a simply pretty one.
There was a smaller plain beige chair across from her and she gestured for Khalee to seat Harlan there. Khalee led Harlan over to the front of the chair. She sat obediently and held her temper so as not to give in to the defiance brewing inside her.
Before the Queen could play the ignoring game, Harlan decided to risk the first few words. “Is it still necessary to keep me bound? I think you've made your point,” she said, keeping her voice calm.
The Queen watched Harlan for a moment, trying to detect insolence, then nodded. Khalee leaned over the back of Harlan's chair and removed the manacles. Harlan pulled her hands forward in relief and rubbed her wrists gratefully.
As Harlan shifted in her seat, allowing her arms to drop to her side, she was suddenly distracted by a female Razorback warrior emerging from a side door. The young woman said nothing but came to stand a few feet behind the Queen. A fitted silver mask concealed most of her features, starting at the top of her cheekbone and running down to her jaw line. The opening for her nose and mouth were probably only large enough to allow the warrior to speak and breathe. It was similar to the one Caraculla now wore. This poor girl must have been disfigured in battle. Harlan couldn’t think of any other purpose the mask would serve.
Even though Harlan couldn’t see her face very well, her gray eyes were fierce with a hint of sadness. The young woman was clad in bright silver armor trimmed in white, her hand resting on a thick broadsword attached to the loose belt at her waist. Harlan thought about Gypsy and how her armor was dented and scratched down to bare metal. Her daughter was proud of her scars, even the ones on her armor. Gypsy didn't have any ceremonial pieces, believing them to be pointless. At this point in her career it wasn't needed. Armor was for protection, not for show. Despite this being a realm controlled by female warriors, Harlan knew her eldest daughter wouldn't have fit in even here.
The Queen dismissed Khalee with a wave. When she was gone, the Queen moved forward to the edge of her seat. “I’m both proud of and disappointed in you, Harlan.”
“I can only assume this is about Caraculla's procedure.”
The Queen nodded grimly. “You had no right to do that to him. Your surgery was a brutal mutilation. You might as well have cut off his penis.”
“With all due respect, your Highness, he was lethal, out of control, and a military prisoner. The citizens and guards in the Empire don't have any way to protect themselves from Razorback venom. The moment he decided he'd had enough of his confinement he would have killed anyone who got in his way. My sole concern was for everyone’s safety. There was no way I was going to stand by and watch him melt another innocent guard.”
“If he was such a menace to you, why didn’t you send him back to us?”
Harlan fought to keep her anger under control. Nineveh’s tone was one you would reserve for a simpleton. So now Caraculla was my responsibility? “Send him back to you? As what? A box of ashes, as the Emperor would've liked?”
“Megolyth would never be so irresponsible as to execute Caraculla without my permission. You are the one who has overreacted.”
Now Harlan was so beyond pissed off. She almost took a page from her husband’s lack-of-diplomacy book and lunged at the Queen, but she checked her fury instead. The longer she was stuck here the less help she could be to her family.
Harlan pulled in a deep calming breath. “Do you really think Caraculla would have willingly come back here in irons? Perhaps we should have released him in hopes that he might stop by for a visit on his way to Leviathan's kingdom. Might I remind you that he'd been in jail for months? Gossip travels farther than any disease. Your people knew where he was. Don't tell me Khalee didn't share that with her beloved Queen. Why not come get him if you were so concerned? You sure as hell didn't waste any time abducting me.”
“I knew he was troublesome but had no idea you were going to butcher him!”
“Troublesome? Butcher him? You have no idea what the hell you're talking about. The surgery I performed was completely reversible. It was merely a precaution, a temporary safety measure. And you, you have a lot of nerve trying to minimize his responsibility in all of this. I don't know who feeds you information, but we’re not talking about an errant child here. This is a battle-hardened, adult bull male who was personally trained by one of the deadliest men in all of the known territories. Didn’t your female ancestors wage a war against your own males in order to protect your children from their out-of-control aggression?”
The Queen jumped up from her seat, her hands balled into fists of frustration.
Did I pull your tail, your Highness? Harlan buried her smirk, awaiting the Queen's tirade.
“That isn't the same. Caraculla would never harm innocents. I know what is best for my people, both male and female. Stop trying to divert attention from your own crime. You were supposed to be the intelligent, level-headed woman in all of this! I expected more. You were the smartest person in the room and this desecration was your solution? The Gods know that baboon of a husband of yours wouldn’t have thought this up on his own! You had a dozen options and that was the best you could come up with? You decided to cripple him? You have lived on this planet long enough to know that all Razorbacks, male or female, belong to me! You had no right to touch him!”
Harlan stood too, but kept her distance. It amused her Nineveh had used the word baboon to describe Gavin. It was not entirely an insult. They were smart, fearless, resourceful and deadly, just like her husband. The Queen was well tutored about other planets, but not enough to know that baboons were not low-end primates.
Harlan responded, trying to keep the sarcasm from her tone for her family’s sake. “By all means, your Majesty, I would be duly humbled if you would enlighten me as to the dozens of options I missed. And I might remind you that you weren't laying any claim to him when he intentionally infected a room full of people with Serillian Fever. I'm sure the Triumvirate would welcome his head on a pike for that stunt. Their losses reached less than a hundred but I'll bet those three kings were miffed nevertheless. I don't see you making any atonement to them for your sacred male Razorback. My guess is the suffering he caused wouldn't be of any concern to you because Razorbacks are immune to the virus.”
The female warrior took two steps closer to Harlan, strategically placing herself between the Queen and Harlan. This young warrior was obviously unaccustomed to having anyone raise their voice to her Queen, especially a human foreigner. She seemed to have forgotten that Harlan was helpless against a Queen that could end her life with a spate of venom.
Harlan held up her hands to ward off any more arguing. This is not going well and it's my fault. I need to stop attacking her and redirect to the crimes that led to Caraculla's surgery. “Please, your Highness, just hear me out. Rumors have spread that Leviathan has lured Caraculla into his service with the promise of his daughter and any of his favorite drugs. Deals were made, gifts given and narcotics made available at a whim. You must understand that Caraculla’s mind was so polluted with drugs that he was completely out of control and probably still is. I've combatted his addiction on and off for twenty-five years. I know him. The drugs change everything about him and he is very dangerous under their influence. That erratic behavior was even more terrifying because he could spit venom when angry.”
&nb
sp; It was hard, but Harlan was having some success keeping her tones low and even. Nineveh had ignited her anger in ways she thought only Gavin could. Undaunted by the Queen's glacial stare, she kept going. “Even with the loss of his venom, Caraculla is still an arena Grand Master and very deadly. Whether you like it or not, I did what I felt I needed to do under the circumstances. And given the same situation I’d do it again, with or without your permission.”
Harlan sat back in the chair and rested her arms on the padded armrests. She dropped her voice even lower. Here comes the story I don't want to tell. “Caraculla, this rogue male that belongs to you, not only tried to rape me but also threatened to spit on my child, because he was drunk, high and pissed off. Despite that incident, I convinced my baboon of a husband not to kill him because it would've devastated our family in ways I can't imagine. Gavin is the only reason Caraculla wasn't executed. Caraculla's target with the Serillian Fever was my daughter’s husband, Kharon. But through his reckless actions, Caraculla still managed to indirectly kill a few thousand innocent people. This Razorback male has been a part of my life for almost as long as I've lived on this planet. I love him like a son, and even after all that he's done I was heartsick at the thought of his death. It was my husband, Gavin, who gave him the freedom he didn't deserve! So rather than be angry at us, maybe you should be thankful he is still alive.”
Something in what Harlan said must have struck a chord because the Queen looked shocked. She sank back down into her chair. Even the warrior between them visibly tensed. “He did what to you?”
Harlan relaxed a little. She wrung her hands in her lap and sighed. Seriously? After all of the casualties, that's the worst of his crimes in your eyes? “He tried to rape me and threatened to kill my youngest child Missy if I resisted or called out for help. But he wasn't in his right mind. He would have never acted that way if he was sober.”
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