“The seal is unbroken.”
It took several seconds before JarDan realized they were at their destination and Dak was waiting for him to give the order to proceed. When he nodded his consent, Dak removed the electronic band across the control panel, allowing the door to open.
“What, exactly, are we looking for, Commander?” Asked Doctor Sladal.
“Anything that’s not … usual … for a MedTech’s room.”
JarDan headed for the closet while the doctor began a search of the storage bins beneath the bed and Dak settled at the small desk. The only sounds were the rustle of cloth and paper as the methodical hunt progressed.
“There’s nothing in the closet except his uniforms. Have either of you found anything?”
Although JarDan did not expect to find all his answers, he had hoped to find something to explain the attack on Melodie. He had no time for frustrated questions and suppositions. Before he could warn his father, he must have something solid.
“Other than a book dealing with perverted sex, there’s not one personal item here. The desk appears unused.”
“Why would a man leave home for six months and bring only what he was issued by the Space Center? That makes no sense, Dak. He didn’t even bring his own clothing.”
“Perhaps he didn’t expect to return home.”
Dak’s quiet statement hovered in the room -- palpable and alive with questions. Always more questions. When would there be answers?
“This is very odd,” mumbled Doctor Sladal.
“I agree, Sladal,” JarDan said settling on the bed. “We must …”
“No, Commander. Pardon my interruption, but this is what I was referencing.” Sladal handed a small packet of papers to JarDan. “Someone affixed these sheets to the bottom of the drawer. I cannot be positive, but I do believe they are written in the language of the Oracles.”
“Why would a MedTech carry documents in a language only a handful of men on Anderas can read? The Oracles accept a very limited number of students. King Zeth used all of his considerable influence to get JarDan and me into the training.”
“Another interesting question, Dak. Look at this.” JarDan joined Dak at the small desk. “It’s as if someone altered the language. Some symbols are easy to translate. I’ve seen this before,” he pointed to a small circle with a scrolling center that resembled an m. “I just can’t remember where. And this one looks like a bird.”
“Could it symbolize the master?” Dak asked. “I believe the bird is a falcon, JarDan. Suppose I’m correct in assuming that you were the target of this attack. If we translate every symbol of the bird to House of Tor or possibly a particular member of your family, what does it say?”
Taking one sheet, JarDan and Dak began the slow process of translating the symbols.
“By all the Ancient Prophets,” JarDan breathed in horror. “Tell me I’m wrong, Dak. Tell me this cannot be.”
Dak retrieved the paper from JarDan’s nerveless fingers. “I’m assuming this flower symbol represents a rose?”
JarDan nodded in absent agreement.
“In the thirty-fifth lifecycle of the Falcon Queen,” he read, “death arrived seeking blood. The screams of the Rose blended in unspeakable harmony with the mourning cries of the Falcon King. The Master was pleased with my performance.”
“My mother!” JarDan fought against the painful memories. “Torak killed my mother.”
“You can’t be certain of that, JarDan. There are too many symbols here that we don’t recognize. When we reach Anderas, I’ll have Raiwan translate it correctly.”
“No, Dak,” JarDan argued quietly. “There are too many similarities to be a coincidence. My mother was thirty-five when she disappeared. Everyone who knew her called her the rose queen …” He drew a quick, sharp breath into his lungs.
“Morandoni,” he whispered, taking the paper from Dak’s hand. “This symbol,” he pointed to the encircled m, “I know where I’ve seen it.” JarDan closed his eyes against the continuing rush of memories. “It’s the seal on the signet ring of Morandoni.”
“But he disappeared years before Arica was killed. Are you certain?”
“There is no doubt, Dak.” JarDan shook his head in shocked acceptance. “Morandoni is the master behind this attack on my family.”
“I remember him as a young man,” Sladal offered quietly. “His accomplishments while studying under Raiwan were legendary. He was destined to be the next Oracle when he simply disappeared without a trace. The people of Falcon Tor mourned his loss for many years.”
“Well, he’s back now. At least we know the truth of my mother’s death. All we ever found was her bloodied gown.”
“I know, my friend.” Dak gripped JarDan’s shoulder in sympathetic understanding. “When my parents died, she offered me the love only a mother can give and she’s the only mother I remember. I still miss her, too.”
JarDan blinked at the sting of tears before rising to face the other two men. No one ever got over the loss of a mother.
“Send word to my father of the threat to the throne. Do not mention this diary or the translation. I’ll tell him when we’re together and alone. His grief is as fresh today as it was twenty years ago. He loves her still and lives constantly with the regret that he could do nothing to protect her.”
JarDan headed for the door, leaving the other two men to finish the search for information. Before he activated the control panel, the Prince of Tor turned.
“Unlike my father, I’ve been warned and I will be ready for him. Captain Beldon, you and Doctor Sladal will appear in my cabin in two hours in full dress uniform. At such time, you will act as witnesses for my bonding with Melodie Smith.”
Without waiting for a reply from either man, JarDan headed to his quarters. He had much to do in the next two hours. A grim smile curved his mouth when he remembered the look on Dak’s face just before the door closed. Without a doubt, he and his friend would soon be deep into another argument.
Dak didn’t understand the silken web that bound him to Melodie -- tighter than titanium shackles, yet soft as butterfly wings. JarDan wasn’t sure he understood. He just knew he couldn’t give up. He’d give his life before he allowed any harm to come to her. Morandoni had made a fatal mistake. Tor JarDan, Prince of Tor, was more than the heir to the throne and Commander of a space craft. He was a warrior. Strong. Powerful. Deadly. Soon -- very soon -- he and this demonic murderer would meet in combat. The master had much to answer for and JarDan vowed to avenge his mother’s death and all the years of sorrow his father endured because of the whim of a madman. He would have his vengeance if it took the rest of his life.
Chapter Six
It was no surprise to JarDan when Dak demanded entrance less than an hour later. He might have come to argue but he had the sense to don the black and silver dress uniform of an Anderan Travel Craft Officer first.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Thank you, Dak. Your approval means a lot. Did you come to lecture me or …”
“You know exactly why I came and I do not approve. You are the future King of Tor. This irrational action will affect everyone at home. Why, JarDan? Give me a reason to explain this.”
JarDan closed his eyes in resignation, wishing he could avoid this confrontation. Turning to the mirror, he continued with the row of buttons that ran from his neck to his shoulder and down the left side of his chest. The silver buttons and fringed epaulets were sharp contrast for the unrelieved black of the jacket, tightly fitted pants and knee-high boots. The only difference in his uniform and Dak’s was the insignia on the short, stand-up collar of the jacket and the slim, gold circle that rested around the middle of JarDan’s forehead. The crown of the heir to the throne.
“The choice of life mate is mine, Dak. Not even the King can question my choice.” He met his friend’s troubled gaze in the mirror. “I want you here as my friend, the brother of my heart if not my blood. I ordered you here because I knew you wouldn’t com
e otherwise.” JarDan sighed as he turned from the mirror. “I release you from that order, Dak. If you can’t accept Melodie as my mate I’ll find another to serve as witness.”
“Are you doing this because you took her to your bed? You don’t have to tie yourself to a woman whose fear of you sent her into shock. She doesn’t think you’re human, remember? You can still send her back. Sladal can reconstruct her maidenhead, the information tapes can be modified to erase her memory of the incident, and no one would ever know.”
“I would know.” JarDan stated firmly. “I’m not choosing her for my wife just because I slept with her. I’m old enough to know the difference between love and lust. What I feel for Melodie isn’t the love my father and mother shared. They knew each other all their lives. The voyage home would have given us time to learn about each other. Time for these feelings between us to grow – maybe into the soul deep love my parents knew. Torak’s treachery took away any chance I had of giving her the gentle courtship she deserved and now I’ve got to find a way to undo the damage. There has to be a way to make this work, Dak. I know that I will regret it for the rest of my life if I let her go. Now, Sladal will be here shortly, do I need another witness?”
JarDan held his breath waiting for Dak to make his choice. He was the Prince of Tor and he would not beg. His heart dropped when Dak turned his back and walked to the window port. Please, Dak. Try to understand. Try. He stood perfectly still, waiting. Dak had to make his own decision without feeling pressured from his liege or his friend. When Dak turned and extended his hand, JarDan clasped his arm, a grin splitting his face. Wrist to wrist, the bonds of friendship held firmly between two strong-willed men.
“Where else would you find a witness who can recite the ancient words? We’re the only two on board forced to learn the language of our ancestors, and you know it.”
“Thank you, my friend. You do me a great honor.”
Offering Dak a goblet of wine, JarDan turned the conversation to more urgent matters.
“Have you selected the guards?”
“No, and don’t give me that black look, JarDan. It only works on men who fear you. We’ve found no further clues in Torak’s quarters. Was he acting alone? Is there another on board ready to take his place? All I find are questions on top of questions.”
A quick bark of laughter interrupted Dak’s complaints. “You echo my own sentiments, Dak. I’ve never known such frustration in my life. This endless barrage of questions without answers would try the patience of a slug.”
“Until there are a few answers,” agreed Dak, “I hesitate to place a guard in your quarters. By morning, I’ll have reset an electronic security bar with a code known only to the two of us. During duty hours, we can secure the room. Whenever either of us is free for a few moments, we can come and check on Melodie. At night, you’ll be here with her and can activate the bar from inside.”
JarDan nodded his agreement with Dak’s plan. Cold, deadly calm replaced the shock of the morning. To bring deliberate harm to a female was punishable by death – and JarDan vowed the death would be slow and painful.
“Until we know more about this plot, I don’t trust anyone enough to risk an attempt on your life. We’ve traveled with the same crew for ten years, and suddenly I suspect everyone. Am I losing my sanity?”
“If you are, my friend, then we’re together in our madness.” JarDan drank deeply from the goblet in his hand. It was the same goblet Melodie drank from last night. He rubbed his bottom lip against the cool metal seeking some remaining taste of her mouth. His intelligence told him it was impossible, but his heart could remember and dream.
“We’ve been at war for twenty years and not known it.” JarDan motioned for Dak to sit before settling his large body into a comfortable position. “Who are we fighting? Have they infiltrated the palace? Where do we start? For every scrap of information we uncover there are a hundred questions.”
“It seems,” drawled Dak, “that we owe your Melodie a large measure of gratitude.”
“What? Praise for my lady from the darkly intense Beldon Dak? What sorcery is this? Are you well?”
“You make jokes at my expense. If she has practiced sorcery, it’s on you. You’re the one enchanted by this female. I merely appreciate the fact that she was the instrument used to reveal the plot against your family. Nothing more.”
JarDan chose not to comment on the deepening color on his friend’s cheeks. “As you say, Dak,” he commented in a sober voice, “she has enchanted me. I’ve only known her for one day, yet I can’t imagine my life without her. She makes me feel -- complete and at peace. The moment I took her in my arms in the teleport beam, I knew. Can you understand?”
JarDan gazed at his lifelong friend, willing him to see the depth of his commitment. When Dak grinned at him after several long, intense minutes, he felt a mighty weight lift from his shoulders.
“Then I’ll honor her as your mate. By the Ancients, I pray I never fall victim to such irrational emotions.”
Doctor Sladal’s arrival interrupted any comment JarDan might have made. He and Dak quickly removed the desk to make room for Melodie’s portable sleep chamber. Infants in sleep chambers were a common sight, but it was a shock to realize how much the unit resembled a glass coffin when used for an adult. Uncontrollable, irrational fear caused his heart to pound in his chest. The slowed breathing and reduced heart rate gave the impression of death and JarDan could not stop himself from checking the monitor panels for assurance she still lived.
Gone was the fear and denial that twisted her face this morning. The soft light illuminating the monitor panels highlighted her pale skin. He knew just how soft her skin was next to his; recalled the faint floral fragrance of her hair, the taste of citrona on her lips.
Placing a hand on the glass top, JarDan turned to the other two men.
“Let’s begin. Doctor Sladal, I believe we can remove the cover of the unit for approximately two hours. Is that correct?” When the doctor agreed, he unsnapped the glass top, setting it aside before he continued. “If you will place the bonding cord around her wrist, Dak will recite the vows.”
JarDan wrapped one end of the narrow, intricate braid of gold filament around his left wrist while Sladal wrapped the other end around Melodie’s wrist. With his right hand on Melodie’s, he nodded to Dak before closing his eyes.
The Prince of Tor let the ancient words engulf him. Only a handful of men knew the language of the earliest Anderans. Born of magic, infused with mystic metaphor, it was a language of sound and tone. Made up of complex written symbols, it passed from generation to generation in the relentless teaching of the Oracles.
The gold grew warm against JarDan’s skin and began to glow with a soft light as the energy of his life force flowed along the braided metal. He could feel the energy from Melodie reaching out to join with his along the shimmering band. She was a part of him as he was now a part of her. Only death could sever the bond of their joining.
The golden band glowed as Dak finished the ancient vows. JarDan was reluctant to break the spell but there was still a certain amount of protocol involved.
“Congratulations, Your Highness,” offered Sladal when Dak ended the ceremony. “May your life be blessed with happiness and prosperity. I pray you soon find a solution to the problems plaguing you so you are free to pursue your dreams. If you will excuse me, I’ll bid you good night. It has been an unusually long day.”
JarDan accepted Sladal’s good wishes before ushering him from the room, wishing Dak would leave with him. He wanted to be alone with Melodie while the sensations of the bonding were still so fresh.
“You should think about using the subliminal tapes, JarDan. She fears what she doesn’t understand. The tapes will explain why …”
“I’m familiar with the tapes, Dak. Your suggestion is valid and I’ll consider it. Right now, I’d like to be alone.”
After Dak left, JarDan changed from his formal black uniform to the favorite white caftan h
e wore for comfort. Pulling a chair close to Melodie, he laid his hand against her face, softly brushing the wisps of hair around her ears.
“This is not the ceremony I expected or the one you deserve, my lady,” he whispered. “There should be musicians and dancers and hundreds of guests toasting to our health and happiness. You should be dressed in a magnificent white gown covered in lace and jewels, not a simple MediCenter gown.”
Watching the gradually fading glow of the golden bonding braid, JarDan’s intelligent mind churned with questions. Questions without answers -- for now.
“Did you feel the force of our joining, Melodie? Are you aware of my presence? Your essence is all around me.” JarDan lifted her hand to his face. “The fragrance of your soap fills my nose, the taste of your skin sweet on my tongue. I ache with the need to hold you -- touch you -- be a part of you. We’ll find a way to bridge this gap between us. I give you my word. All you have to do is trust me enough to try.”
He gently removed the bonding cord from her wrist before settling her hand against her stomach. Holding the warm metal in his hands, he smiled. Dak suggested he use the subliminal tapes and he would, but there was no reason not to make a tape or two of his own. If he wanted her to trust him, he would have to expose himself -- his emotions and dreams -- to her. Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, he set the machine on record before taking her hand in his. The same hand that still held the bonding cord.
“Shall I tell you about Anderan Bonding Cords, my love?” JarDan knew she wouldn’t hear him until he reset the machine to play, but he could pretend. This conversation with her somehow made the ceremony more real -- special in a way that was important for him.
“When an Anderan male reaches his fifteenth year, he selects a bar of gold from among hundreds. The size and shape are as important as the color. Did you know there are hundreds of shades of gold? From pale lemon to deepest amber, there’s a shade that calls to each lad. The selection itself requires many hours of deliberation and thought. This is a momentous event in his life and there’s only one perfect bar for him.
The Men of Anderas I: Jardan, the King Page 6