The Bastard Prince (Blue Moon Rising Book 3)

by Blair Bancroft

Tal had no trouble recognizing bad news in the devastation of Lassan’s face, the frustration and fury radiating from his stocky body. They were down, they were alive. That should be cause for rejoicing, but Tal knew Lassan well enough to realize that no matter what caused the accident, the older man felt he had failed his crew, his family, and the rebellion.

  “We don’t need repairs,” Dagg announced. “We need a new engine room. It was a bomb. A fydding bomb. Four dead, the whole place blown to fragments. Some fydding son of a fydding bitch blew up my ship!”

  Into the appalled silence, K’kadi spoke. Bomb. Traitor. True.

  “Dama Lassan,” Tal ordered, usurping the staggered merchant captain’s place, “please post a watch, while Dagg and I find some private place where we can figure this out. How about the officers’ mess?” Grimly, Captain Lassan nodded. “K’kadi,” Tal added, “can you hold?”

  Yes.

  “That landing was a strain.” A flat statement, not a question of his brother-in-law’s competency.

  After, sleep for week.

  Tal’s lips curled in appreciation of K’kadi’s attempt at humor. “Carry on. Kass, you’re with me.”

  “You’re certain it was bomb?” Tal asked the moment the three of them were seated around a table in the officer’s mess.

  “Yes,” Dagg growled. “But I still can’t believe it. A spy in our midst, a traitor on Blue Moon . . . ?”

  “The rebellion’s built on volunteers,” Tal said, his right hand clenching into a fist poised to pound the table. “We’ve always known this could happen, but I have to admit it’s hard, really hard, to accept.”

  Kass, exhausted and disbelieving, found her voice at last. “Surely there could be another reason for—”

  “No!” Captain Lassan roared. “Pegasus was in prime condition.”

  “Kass,” Tal chided, “you heard K’kadi. It was a bomb.” Defeated, Kass hung her head and shut her mouth. But not for long.

  “Dagg,” she asked. “Are you sure she can’t be repaired? Credits aren’t a problem.”

  “Weeks of work. No way we can stay hidden that long.”

  After a long moment of silence, with Dagg’s head ducked in defeat and Kass’s exhausted mind refusing to offer any creative suggestion, it was left to Tal to give the orders. “We’re down to two choices,” he told them. “I can get us all out of here tonight, into some safe place until transport can be arranged back to Blue Moon. Or we can simply report a ship down and let ourselves be rescued.”

  “You can’t do that!” Jolted out of the fog of psychic burnout, Kass met Tal’s bland look with eyes that sparked amber flame. “Everyone knows your face.”

  “My long dead face.”

  “Not that long! You’re a hero of the Empire.”

  With each decibel Kass’s voice rose, Tal’s grew more cool. “It’s the only way to save Pegasus. And it doesn’t risk the Regs I’d have to call on to help us if we abandon ship.”

  Kass, left without an argument, plunged her head into her hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. After the long months of tension leading up to Psyclid Freedom Day, the scouting expedition to Regula Prime was almost like a vacation. An opportunity to get back into space, to do something vital with minimal risk. Minimal risk, ha! With careful precision, Kass intoned, “You’re saying that with the help of the Reg rebel underground, we abandon ship, slip off into the night, risking the locals’ exposure as well as our own, or we take our chances on passing ourselves off as a merchant ship forced to crash land on Reg soil.”

  “That’s about it,” Tal returned without inflection.

  “A suggestion, Captain,” Dagg Lassan offered. “You, your wife, the boy, and the Herc girl go. The Pegasus crew stays. She is a merchant ship, after all, and it’s not the first time she’s been here. We’re even carrying precious cargo. A load of special bubbly from Chalyx and tatifali, those candies the emperor likes.”

  Tal nodded in appreciation of Captain Lassan’s forethought, but Kass was frowning. “They’ll know you couldn’t have landed with the engine room the way it is,” she pointed out.

  “On the contrary, we had just enough power to get us down. The explosion and fire happened afterward. Which happens to be the truth.”

  Tal and Kass exchanged a look. “The plan makes sense,” Tal admitted, “but I balk at leaving you to face—”

  “A courtesy, Captain. Believe me, we are much safer without you on board.”

  “He’s right,” Kass said. “There’s no way K’kadi could ever pass for anything but what he is. Alala is an escaped prisoner of war, and all they’d need do is run a facial recce on me . . .” Not that she didn’t know Tal hadn’t already considered every word she was saying before she said it, but running away and leaving Dagg Lassan and his crew to fend for themselves was contrary to everything Tal Rigel was. He needed every word of reinforcement she could manage.

  “Go, Captain, call your contacts,” Lassan urged, his tone more father to son than merchant captain to rebel leader. “You need to be out of here before first light.”

  Slowly, his face struggling for his customary military cool, Tal nodded. “Kass, back to the bridge. At full dark, tell K’kadi to stand down. See he gets what rest he can before we make a run for it. We’re going to need his services all too soon again. Meanwhile, I have a call to make.”

  As Kass trudged back to the bridge, she couldn’t help but question their planning for this mission. Flush with success over the win on Psyclid—their reasoning augmented by her insistence that K’kadi could handle the job—they’d left Jagan to hover over the recovering M’lani. Never, at any time, had it occurred to either of them that they might need two people gifted with the power to make things invisible. Yet tonight they did. Kass was so tired she doubted she could teleport a kafi cup. So how could Tal expect K’kadi, who was taking the brunt of tonight’s responsibility, to do anything but collapse at any moment, useless for the next twelve hours or more?

  Kass stepped onto the bridge and stumbled to a halt, staring at little brother, who was flanked on one side by Alala and on the other by Talora. Alala was feeding him bite-size bits of food, while Talora tilted a goblet to his lips between each serving. K’kadi should have appeared on the verge of total exhaustion. Instead . . . she’d swear the miserable boy was enjoying himself!

  He caught her fascinated gaze from across the room. And smiled.

  Well, they all knew he wasn’t natural, but really . . .

  Kass tore her eyes away from K’kadi’s amused gaze and looked out the forward viewport. Pitch black.

  “K’kadi, it’s dark. Tal says you may stand down.”

  Like job. He smirked.

  That I can see! But Tal says, stand down. Rest. More work in a few hours.

  Joke?

  No. We’re leaving. Tal, you, me, Alala.

  Done. K’kadi raised his hands, the girls helped him up, somehow juggling food and drink, as well as exhausted Psyclid.

  “Ladies,” Kass said, “please assist K’kadi to his room. He’s earned his rest.” As the trio made their way across the bridge, applause rang out. Even a cheer or two. The Pegasus crew had no doubt about who had saved their lives.

  Chapter 10

  Thanks to Fate, or whatever all-powerful being each of them prayed to, it was low tide when Pegasus landed, offering a broad expanse of beach for a landing site. Hours later, however, in what they hoped was the quietest part of the night, Tal, Kass, K’kadi, and Alala were forced to slog through knee-deep water before making their way to the narrow strip of sand above the high-water mark. High dunes came next, pulling at their feet and threatening to tumble them back onto the beach with each struggling step. Tal put an arm around a flagging Kass; Alala did the same for K’kadi. Three hours sleep had been far short of the time needed to recover from the ordeal of bringing Pegasus to a safe landing.

  As they approached the dark wall of a low-lying, windswept forest—illuminated only by a waning half-moon—waving grass and sh
ifting sand finally gave way to firmer footing. A few feet inside the shelter of the woods, Tal ordered, “Take a break, shake off the sand. K’kadi, we can take a chance on lowering the cloak, if you need a rest.”

  No need. With a negligent flip of his hand, K’kadi waved away Tal’s concern. Kass shook her head. How he was managing she couldn’t even imagine. She could barely put one foot before the other, yet baby brother—her volatile, odd, frequently unreliable baby brother—was standing as firm as the proverbial Rock of Gibraltar, whatever that was . . .

  Wet! Somehow even in silent speak, the ever fastidious K’kadi managed to transmit his disgust.

  “Sorry, kid,” Tal returned. “Even you can’t control the tide.”

  Kass winced. That was probably what K’kadi needed, man-to-man talk, but somehow she felt the urge to protect him, to shelter the fragile youngest Orlondami from reality.

  After all the hours you’ve spent trying to teach him discipline? her inner voice taunted.

  Oh, be quiet! He’s still a baby.

  He’ll be twenty-one this month.

  Maybe a cheeky twelve.

  Kass stumbled over a root. Tal grabbed her arm just in time to keep her from falling. “Don’t drift,” he snapped. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I know it’s tough, but the road isn’t far.” Transferring his grip to Kass’s hand, Tal hauled her along behind him.

  Fortunately, he was right. Treacherous roots and low-hanging branches suddenly gave way to a grassy verge, with a paved two-lane country road just beyond.

  “K’kadi, how’s the cloak?” Tal asked.

  Good.

  “Head left until we come to a K-mark,” Tal said. “How fortunate we Regs are such an organized race—setting K-marks every other kilometer.” Even Alala managed a fleeting smile as they trudged on down the road.

  Fifty meters.

  What? Kass asked. Surely K’kadi couldn’t see that far in the dark.

  Marker. Fifty meters.

  She made an effort to peer around Tal’s body but saw nothing but more road trailing into the depths of night.

  Forty.

  Fine. They’d seen clairvoyance from baby brother before. The trouble was, no one had much confidence in his prognostications.

  Yet suddenly there it was, materializing out of the dark—the nearest K-marker to the coordinates Tal had given his contact. After surging forward to check the number, he ordered,. “Into the woods, hunker down, so K’kadi can take a break.” Taking out his handheld, Tal confirmed their arrival at the meeting point. As the faintly shimmering cloaking field around them winked out, he dropped to the ground beside Kass. “They’re about fifteen minutes out,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “K’kadi, you all right?”

  Yes.

  “Alala?”

  “I am fine, Captain.”

  Kass wished she could say the same for herself. It was cold, cold, cold, and the ground was hard as a rock. What she’d give to be back on Blue Moon, enjoying its year-round balmy climate. Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes . . .

  In the dead of night, the road was nearly deserted, but three groundcars passed before a tran slowed as it approached, its headlights blinking off-on twice before it pulled onto the shoulder and parked directly behind the metal post displaying the K-mark.

  “K’kadi, last few minutes, I promise,” Tal said, and just that quickly the cloak was back. “Let’s go.” Grasping Kass firmly by the hand, Tal started toward the front of the tran’s cab, where the passenger-side window had been rolled down.

  Bright lights flashed as a multi-wheeled truck came round a bend in the road, spotlighting the tran almost as clearly as day. Tal flattened himself and Kass against the side of the truck, motioned for K’kadi and Alala to do the same.

  Not trust? K’kadi demanded, glowering.

  “Instinct,” Tal whispered as the truck went rumbling by. “Sorry, but those beams were powerful. Why take a chance?”

  Kass glanced toward the cab. K’kadi had a right to be annoyed. Both men inside appeared alert but unfocused, obviously uncertain of the location of their potential passengers. K’kadi’s cloak was holding firm.

  Kass, Tal whispered in her mind. Identify.

  Me?

  That’s what I was told.

  Kass peered inside the dim cab, and gasped. “Cort! I can’t believe my eyes. Cort!” The face of her former jailor broke into a broad grin as he turned toward the sound of her voice. “Good to hear you, girl. Climb in quick, we’ll talk later.”

  Tal led them to the rear of the tran, unbarred the door, and helped them scramble inside. “Go!” he called to the men up front as he slid down to the floor between Kass and K’kadi. “Well done, both of you. You can sleep all the way to wherever they’re taking us.” With that, he settled Kass’s head on his shoulder, holding her tight as she snuggled in.

  “You may use me as a pillow if you wish,” Alala said to K’kadi, although her tone had all the warmth of a glacier.

  K’kadi eyed the uninviting interior of the tran, clearly chosen for expediency not comfort. Other than a thin, rough carpet, there was metal everywhere. But pillow his head on Alala even when he’d never needed sleep so much in his whole life . . . That close, and sleep would not be possible.

  You vowed not to let her know that, his inner voice reminded him.

  True, but . . .

  Oh, fizzet! Not even sex could hold out over the waves of exhaustion that rolled over him. He was done. K’kadi used his last remnants of talent to lift Alala and himself to the far side of the tran, where he’d have room to stretch out. Ignoring Alala’s gasp of indignation that he’d dared use his sorcerer’s tricks on her, K’kadi settled his head in her lap and promptly passed out.

  Kass’s eyes blinked open. She groaned, pulled the covers up to her chin, dug into her pillow, and . . .

  Warmth, comfort, sunshine, a large bed, a spacious, luxuriously appointed room.

  No Tal.

  He’d been here, she remembered that much. But he’d gone off, leaving her to sleep away her exhaustion. Fizzet, but they’d fallen on their feet. Wherever they were, it was far better than any safe house she had imagined. This room would not have looked out of place in Veranelle.

  Cort! Cort Baran. She’d really seen him last night. Was he here? Bless him. He’d been her rock during all those years in the Archives, the one who’d let Vander Rigel know that sending her home had become less dangerous than keeping her in protective custody.

  Before dressing, Kass peered out of one of the corner room’s sparkling windows. Vast stretches of lawn, flower beds in winter brown, interspersed with trellises, silent fountains, all framed by neatly trimmed hedges and a series of rocky terraces. Not a modest safe house, but the country manor of a wealthy family. A very wealthy family. Fizzit. Their arrival was lost in a haze of exhaustion—surely the distinguished gentleman who welcomed them last night could not have been Admiral Rigel . . .

  Tal had brought them home?

  “Where would you be more safe?” Vander Rigel asked an hour later. “It’s the last place anyone would look.”

  “Not after Choya Gate and Tycho,” Tal pointed out. Alek told me about the rumors.”

  “I have survived them, “the admiral returned blandly. “I am, after all, a member of the High Council, and your mother, most fortunately, has influence at court. And besides,” he added, “if I am guilty of fomenting rebellion, why have I not taken my family and fled long since?”

  “And I thought I was the daring one,” Tal shot back.

  “A bit mad,” his father conceded. “It seems to run in the family.”

  “What about Pegasus?” Kass asked. “Have you heard?”

  “The news sensation of the month,” Tal’s mother, Reyla, declared. “Your Captain Lassan is a clever man. Imagine carrying cargo specifically aimed at the Emperor’s tastes. I hear Darroch is ecstatic. Cases of the best bubbling wine from the vineyards on Chalyx and two dozen boxes of tatifali, which he hasn’t had in mon
ths.”

  The admiral’s lips twitched as he added, “Darroch has quite a sweet tooth.”

  Dear goddess, Kass wondered, how long had she slept? Somehow their expedition had gone from disaster to triumph in a matter of hours. She studied Reyla Rigel’s animated face. Tal’s mother was everything she might have expected—tall, stately, brightly intelligent, and radiating the inborn confidence of royal ancestry, power, and wealth. Naturally, she was blond and blue-eyed, and a good head taller than Kass, who could only wonder what her mother-in-law thought of her son marrying one of those weird Psyclids. She suspected being a princess helped, but not much.

  Kass glanced up as she felt her brother’s presence. K’kadi was standing in the doorway to the Rigel’s elegant sitting room, a lazy smile playing over his lips. The smile of a man with a job well done. His azure eyes flicked toward Alala, who was already in the room, a silent observer to the Rigel family reunion. Fizzet! What would Reyla Rigel, from a cadet branch of the House of von Baalen, think of K’kadi?

  K’kadi walked straight to the elder Rigels, delivered a courtly bow to Reyla and a snappy salute to the admiral, before offering Tal and Kass a grin that looked like it might spawn fireworks at any moment. Alala, however, received no more than a cool nod.

  “Young man,” the admiral said, “you are the hero of the hour. Welcome to my home.”

  K’kadi’s pale skin turned pink all the way up to his nearly white hair. Thank you, he managed. Lady Rigel gasped.

  “He says, ‘thank you,’” Kass interpreted.

  “We heard him,” Vander Rigel said, awe breaking through his military cool.

  “K’kadi’s voice is a new gift,” Kass explained, “one of the best things that has happened in a long time. I am happy to see he is extending his range.”

  For her efforts Kass was thanked by a glower. Speak for myself!

  Goddess forgive, she was so used to interpreting K’kadi to the world . . . A swift look around told her he had spoken only to her. Control. How could she question his control after what he’d done for Pegasus? He wasn’t a fragile child in need of protection any more. And even if he were, it was time to let go.