always been her favorite. She gazed upon it now, knowing she would never
see it once she left here.
Then, so be it.
Moving to the computer that appeared so out of place in this ancient
hall, she paused for one last moment before using the private code of
her dead father to activate this link with the outside world. Then she
sent a carefully composed message to Brigadier Kerla, consort to
Chancellor Azetbur.
Her father had served under Kerla many years ago, before he was promoted
and sent to serve with Kruge. Her father and Kerla had been good
friends, trusted allies.
Valdyr knew Azetbur trusted Kerla as well. She would have to take a
chance with him. The message, at first, would seem like a normal piece
of correspondence. She had to make sure that it would be sent through
the relays, that no one would pay it any mind and stop it on its
journey. The relays would slow it down, she knew, but she could think of
no other way to insure that Brigadier Kerla would receive it.
She was, after all, only the daughter of a dead hero, only the niece of
an ambassador. Perhaps her father's name would take her message to
Kerla's hands. If it did not, than Peter, his uncle, and Valdyr herself
were all doomed.
Peter lay on the stone bench, reading and trying to keep his eyes from
staring at the vacant glass portal. The waiting was becoming unbearable.
Would Uncle Jim really just give himself up to Kamarag? He couldn't! He
would know kidnappers never live up to their promises, especially a
kidnapper as crazed as Kamarag. Peter sighed, trying not to 'wear
himself out worrying over a situation he could do nothing about.
He heard the slightest click, and his gaze snapped to the portal, but no
one was there. Another click followed, and Peter was on his feet
instantly. It was happening. They were coming to take him ... to
Valdyr. Uncle Jim had actually done it, given himself up. His mind raced
wildly.
His door swung open, and Valdyr entered, pointing a wicked-looking
Klingon hand disrupter at him. So, she'd had to come for him herself.
Boy, these people did nothing to make things easier, did they?
"Are you ready?" she demanded.
He stood up straight "Yes. I'm ready."
With a quick flip of her wrist she tossed the disrupter at him. He
snatched it clumsily, then stared at the weapon in his hand. He realized
she was holding a small crossbow by her side. "What's going on?" he
whispered.
"Shhhh," she warned him, then stuck her head out the door, looking both
ways. "Be prepared to use that. We have a long, dangerous journey ahead
of us. You must stay close to me, Pityr."
He grinned. "Try and stop me."
They moved quickly through endless, ancient stone cord-dors in stealthy
silence, and the whole time he hadn't a clue as to their destination.
After a good fifteen minutes of climbing dark, winding
staircases, and tiptoeing down long unused hallways, Valdyr finally
halted. Turning to him, she pres sed her mouth against his ear and
whispered, "Now it becomes difficult." Now? he thought, and stared at
her.
"To leave the dungeons is easy if you take the back passageways," she
explained quietly. "They are no longer used. But to enter the secret
tunnels, you must go through the heart of the compound. We will have to
be even more cautious. And we must be ready to fight."
"I'm ready," he assured her. "Lead the way." She opened the antique door
cautiously, indicating that he should wait behind in the stairwell. He
watched her through a crack in the wood as she stepped into a spacious,
well-lighted hallway. She had just begun to signal him to follow her
when two burly Klingons rounded a corner. She froze, as he did.
"Valdyr!" one of them said to her congenially. "Karg has been looking
for you. He wishes you to join him at the midday meal. You'd better
hurry." She stiffened and frowned. "And because Karg wishes it, Malak, I
am to obey? I am no trained targ, and I take no backhand summons from my
uncle's pet." Her tone dripped contempt.
Peter rolled his eyes, unable to believe that she was going to get into
a row with these two apes now. But the guard merely laughed, apparently
enjoying her display of spirit.
"I told him you would not listen to me, Valdyr," Malak agreed, "but I,
too, must do as I am bid by my commander." Suddenly the soldier with him
sniffed. "Do you smell something?" Malak tested the air and looked
thoughtful.
Damn it! Peter swore silently. He hadn't had a real bath in over a week,
and his sponge baths, no matter how thorough, were a poor substitute.
Besides, you're a human. You smell as different to them as they do to
you.
Before Malak could answer, Valdyr sneered, "Who could smell anything
while Karg walks these halls?" Malak laughed again. "Oh, Valdyr, you
were always a terror. I miss serving with your brother. If Karg were
wise, he'd seek another wife. Make things easy for yourself and hurry
along. You might still get a choice cut of meat. Come, Darj, we have
work to do." The laughing soldiers moved on, but Peter could see Darj
looking about the hall, as if trying to find the source of the odor he'd
detected. Valdyr watched them for a few minutes, then yanked open the
door.
"Hurry, there is no time! Karg will come looking for me if I do not
answer his summons shortly. Clutching his sleeve, she towed him through
the hallway. Finally, she stood before a huge piece of furniture. She
peered around behind it, then glanced at Peter, as if assessing his
size. "The passageway is behind this closet. I think you are thin enough
... "
"I knew I smelled something foul?" an angry voice said behind them.
They spun, and Peter found himself facing Darj. He was alone, holding a
weapon on both of them. He glanced at Valdyr, who was still half behind
the closet, half exposed.
There was no way they could pretend she was just "moving the prisoner."
Their attempt to escape was plain.
"Malak thinks little of his commander," Darj said, moving carefully
around them. "Fortunately for Karg, I am loyal! Malak will be demoted,
but if he's fortunate, he'll be allowed to live. You two, however, will
not have that privilege. Valdyr, move away from that closet, now."
"Certainly, Darj," she said demurely, surrendering. She stepped away
from the massive wooden piece, revealing the crossbow held firmly in her
right hand. She fired at the same instant, and the quarrel buried itself
deep in the soldier's throat.
Darj collapsed heavily, gurgling, then lay still. Before Peter could
react, Valdyr snatched up the soldier's weapon and pocketed it, then
rifled through his uniform. She shoved several small items into the
pouch she wore on her belt; then she began tugging the heavy body toward
the closet. "Help me!" she gasped, and Peter, who'd been standing there,
stunned--he'd never seen anyone killed before--jumped to obey.
"Into the closet," she ordered, and the two of them wrestled the he
avy
body inside the massive wooden structure.
"This way? she snapped, and he followed her as she squeezed behind the
heavy furniture.
In back of the old wooden object was a small door that opened inward.
Valdyr pulled out an ornate iron key, and unlocked the secret door. It
slid open easily. And then they were inside, the door shut securely
behind them. Peter stood stock-still, in total darkness. If she
abandoned him here.
A light flared and he winced at the sudden brightness.
Valdyr was in front of him, holding a tiny but powerful lantern. "We
will be safe for a while now. The only one who knows these passages is
my uncle, and he is not here. Karg knows nothing of them. the fool can
search the entire compound and never find us. And even if they find
Darj's body and discover this passageway, by that time we will be deeply
into the hidden chambers."
She started moving along the narrow tunnel, and Peter followed her. "But
how long can we stay here?" he wondered.
"We only need to stay until dark," she explained. "Then, we can follow
the tunnels, and leave the compound."
"You mean these passageways will actually take us outside this
fortress?"
"That's correct. They were built hundreds of years ago, and have been
used by entire armies during local conflicts and feuds. There are dozens
of warrens and chambers, enough to hide an entire squadron of soldiers.
We will be safe ... until we leave. Once outside the compound we must
try to reach the spaceport--but by then Darj will surely be missed, and
your escape discovered. They will be searching for us."
They moved swiftly through the tunnels, saying little, as Valdyr guided
them to safety. Finally, she ushered him into a small, cozy chamber,
then set about lighting battery-powered lamps that hung on the wall.
"This place had always been special to my oldest brother and myself. We
used to play war in these tunnels, and hide from our nurses down here."
She moved over to a narrow bed, her only furniture in the room, and sat
down. "We spent hours down here, making up stories, planning our futures
... "
Peter remembered her speaking of her brother's death.
"You must miss him."
She nodded. "He was a lot like my father. He treated me more like a
little brother than a sister." She looked about the dimly lit chamber.
"It as almost as if I can feel his spirit here ... "
Peter watched as her eyes moved around the room. She had just killed one
of her countrymen. She was giving up everything in her life to do this
for him. He didn't know what to say to her. "I ... wish I could've
known your brother. 1 would like to think ... we could've found a
common ground ... "
She turned to him. "My brother and father would approve of what I'm
doing. They would know I'm fighting for Qo'nos, for the future of all
Klingon people."
Peter nodded. "I'm sure they would. You've chosen a very difficult path,
Valdyrmmuch more difficult than armed combat. You bring honor to their
memory."
They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Finally, she said, "I
have sent a message to Azetbur. Once she receives it ..."
"When did you send it?" he asked, interested. "What did it say?."
She explained about sending the message to her father's old friend,
Brigadier Kerla, and how she had addressed and phrased it cautiously, so
it would go through the channels without being intercepted. "However, I
know that will slow it down. I cannot say how long it will take before
Azetbur will even see it."
Peter thought she was being optimistic. Realistically, it could be hours
before the thing even got into the hands of this Kerla, assuming some
well-meaning staff member didn't misinterpret it and delay it even
further. "When the chancellor finds out what you've done, she will
surely reward you."
Valdyr looked away, her expression grim. "I have betrayed my family. She
may personally be grateful, but ... family
honor is very important to our people. There will be no rewards for what
I've done. I expect to be outcast ... you would say, homeless, shunned
... when this is over. But I will have my own personal honor. No one
can take that from me. Not Karg. Not Kamarag. No one."
He admired her obstinate courage. "Valdyr ... I want to thank you for
helping me. And as long as I live, you will always have a place in my
family ... for whatever that's worth."
She looked at him, her expression shocked. "You would accept me in your
family? And how would your people feel about that, a Klingon woman
coming to them? What of your uncle--he hates us. How will he feel about
this?"
"My uncle is fair," Peter insisted. "The tragedy of Gorkon's death
changed the way he regards your people. He is as close to me as you were
to your father. I assure you, my uncle would welcome any warrior as
brave as you into our family."
"Then I hope we all live long enough to meet, Pityr. I have heard much
of this James Kirk. It would be interesting to face him and see if the
man and legend are the same."
Peter started to smile when a mark on her neck caught his eye. He
squinted. It was a terrible-looking bruise. He touched it gently. "What
happened, Valdyr? How did you get this?"
She flinched and moved away, so he pulled his hand back, fearing he'd
been too familiar. She looked away, and he thought he could see her
color darkening in the chamber's muted light. "It is just ..." she began
hesitantly. "It is nothing ... "
Then he realized. "Karg did this to you." His voice was low as he tried
to suppress the outrage he felt. "That's what happened, isn't it? This
is from Karg."
She turned, met his gaze defiantly. "It is Karg's mark. He marked me so
everyone would know to whom I belonged. I fought him, but he's ... too
strong for me ... "
Peter's fury flared. "I'd love to have about ten minutes alone with that
guy in a locked room," he grumble d.
She watched him curiously. "This bothers you, Pityr, this mark from
Karg?"
"Of course it bothers meg" he blurted. "He touched you against your
will. No one should be allowed to do that."
She actually laughed then, and the lightness of that sound startled him.
"Oh, Pityr, you humans are unusually funny!
If I were strong enough, I could keep Karg in his place--it might be a
good marriage then--but because I am small, he has all the advantage."
"It shouldn't have anything to do with strength, Valdyr," he argued.
"You should only be touched when you choose to be, and by whom you
choose to be."
"I see. And because Karg forced his touch on me, you are angry with me
about this7" she asked.
"Of course I'm not angry with you/I'm furious at Karg."
"Furious enough ... to fight for me?" She asked the question so
quietly, Peter instantly understood that the question meant more to her
than its simplicity indicated.
He stared into her deep, dark eyes, realizing that this was the fir
st
interaction they'd been able to enjoy without having the viewing port
between them since she'd first dumped him into his cell. They were
together, here in this small room, with no one around, just the two of
them. He swallowed, wanting to make sure he said just the right thing.
"My people believe that fighting is the last resort, that there are
always alternatives to violent confrontation ... but ... I must
confess ... that guy ... Yes, Valdyr. If I had the chance, I would
fight Karg for you."
Her eyes widened as if she could not believe he'd actually said that.
She looked as if she might say something, than hesitated, and finally
murmured, "Pityr. What are apricots? ...
He blinked, momentarily confused. Then he remembered telling her that
was how she smelled to him. He smiled.
"They're a delicious fruit from Earth. They're only available a short
time each year, so they're highly prized. They have a wonderful perfume,
and a bowl of them in the warm summer air will scent a whole room. My
grandmother grew
them and we couldn't wait every year until they were ready to be eaten."
"And ... I have this same scent?"
"Yes ... "He leaned closer and deliberately inhaled her odor. Moving
slowly, for fear of shattering the mood between them, he touched her
face, turning it to him, as he allowed his lips to graze her cheek
Star Trek - Sarek Page 36