The Captive (24 page)

Darf ruffled his wife’s hair. “So, Falkon, how long are you
two going to stay?”

“I’m not sure. Have you heard anything of Daccar?”

Darf grunted. “Your home is at peace for the first time in
thirty years.”

Falkon looked stunned. “I don’t believe it.”

Darf nodded. “There was a battle with the Romarians shortly
after you were captured. Your people allied with the barbarians of Swernolt and
emerged victorious. Daccar, Swernolt, and Romariz signed a treaty.”

Falkon swore under his breath. A treaty with Romariz. It was
unthinkable. All these months, he had thought of nothing but vengeance. “Have
you heard anything of an alliance between Romariz and Cenia?”

Darf shook his head. “No, but I heard through a reliable
source that Drade has been seen on Hodore in the company of the Cenian
ambassador.”

“Drade.” Falkon’s hands clenched as he imagined them around
his enemy’s throat. He should have kept that damnable collar. He’d like to see
Drade squirming on the ground, just once, his body writhing in agony. Just once
before he killed him.

“Falkon?” He turned his head to see Ashlynne staring at him,
her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe you should let it go,” Darf said quietly. “There’s
nothing to be gained from revenge.”

“Isn’t there?” Falkon met his friend’s gaze.

“Would you risk your future, or Ashlynne’s future, to avenge
the past? Vengeance will serve no purpose. It will not bring Maiya or your
daughter back to you, nor ease the pain of their loss.”

Falkon looked at Ashlynne and knew his friend spoke the
truth. What was past was past, and could not be resurrected. And Ashlynne… As
much as he yearned to avenge Maiya’s death, he would not put Ashlynne’s life,
or the life of their unborn child, in danger.

“You speak wisely, as always,” Falkon said. Not long ago, he
had wished for a chance to spend the rest of his life with Ashlynne. Now that
he had that chance, he would be a fool to throw it away. Sliding his arm around
her waist, he drew her close. “To hell with Drade,” he said, and felt a sense
of peace wash over him as Ashlynne looked into his eyes and smiled.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Niklaus glared at Brill
through the tele-screen.

Brill shook his head. “I mean she’s gone. She hit me with a
stun gun, and he tied me up. They took the shuttle and left.”

“Did you try to find them?”

“Yes, sir. I have people looking for them now.”

“Double your search. I want her waiting for me when I get
back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Niklaus closed the transmission, then turned to his
companion. “I want you to send some men to Daccar.”

Drade nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Do you have any idea where he’d go?”

“I doubt if he’ll go home,” Drade replied. “It’s a
possibility, of course. But I think he’s smarter than that.”

“Well, he can’t just disappear.”

“No. He has a few close friends. I’ll send my men to check
them out.”

“We’ve got to find her,” Niklaus said. “Brezor won’t be put
off much longer.”

“I have an idea,” Drade remarked, “though you may not like
it.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“If we can’t locate Lady Ashlynne in time, we could find
someone to take her place. Brezor has never seen her. The imposter can sign the
necessary papers, and when she’s served her purpose…” Drade shrugged. “She’ll
disappear.”

Niklaus tapped his knuckles on the arm of his chair. It
might work. At the moment, it was the best option they had. Time was running
out. The Cenian ambassador was not a patient man. He had agreed to attack
Tierde in return for a partnership in the mine in order to assure that he would
have a steady supply of the black
baneite
crystals. A partnership in the
mine, and the ambassador’s silence. Niklaus needed both.

“Find me a suitable woman,” Niklaus said. “And then find my
wife. When you do, bring her to Arkata. Make sure no one sees you.”

With a nod, Drade left the room.

Niklaus went to the window and gazed out into the darkness
of the Hodorian night. Where was she? And what was he going to do with her when
she was found? He shied away from the obvious answer but, in the end, he knew
he would have no choice. Once she signed the mine over to him, he would have no
further use for her. She would be just another loose end.

He blew out a sigh, wondering how things had gone so wrong
so quickly. It had all started out innocently enough, a casual conversation
with the Cenian ambassador, who was eager to be part of the Confederation,
eager to fuel his ships at Tierde, rather than make the long journey to Ohnmahr.
Brezor had mentioned that if Hassrick would put in a good word with Marcus and
the other members of the Mining Confederation, he would make it worth his
while.

It had been a way out, and Hassrick had jumped at it.
Unbeknownst to his father, he had made several bad investments, had borrowed
credits and cash he could not afford to repay. Because of that, his family was
on the brink of losing everything they had worked for, everything they owned.
All Hassrick had to do was convince Marcus to admit Cenia to the Confederation.
Hassrick had agreed, confident of his ability to convince his future
father-in-law to see things his way. Brezor had cleared Hassrick’s debts and
made a large deposit to Hassrick’s private account. It had all seemed so easy,
until Marcus refused to admit the Cenians to the Confederation.

In desperation, he had gone to Drade. It had been Drade who
suggested the attack on Tierde. Invite Ashlynne to Arkata. Attack the mine.
Marry the girl, and the mine would be his. The Cenian ambassador could have
access to Tierde and the
baneite
crystals and all would be well.
Hassrick had been appalled by the idea, but, in the end, he had agreed. But the
attack hadn’t gone as planned, either. Due to an error in timing, the attack
had taken place a week early. He had thought all was lost, and then, as if by a
miracle Ashlynne had showed up. But even that had gone wrong. He had never been
eager to marry her, but on meeting her, he had been smitten by her beauty, by
her apparent innocence, only to discover that she was soiled goods, no better
than a Hodorian streetwalker. She had stubbornly refused to give him the mine.

Nothing had gone as planned

Only now, when it was too late, did he begin to wonder if
perhaps Drade had had an agenda of his own.

Ashlynne turned on her side and ran her foot up and down
Falkon’s leg. She had been a little embarrassed when it came time to go to bed
and Darf had asked if they wanted to share a room. She’d felt her cheeks grow
hot when Falkon grinned at his friend and replied, what do you think? She
couldn’t help wondering what Darf and Chaney thought, but she didn’t really
care. They were together, and she wanted nothing more than to be with Falkon,
to hold him in her arms. She ran her fingertips over his cheek, along his jaw,
and down his neck.

“I guess you’re glad to be rid of that awful collar,” she
mused aloud.

He grunted softly. “You have no idea.”

“Have you always been a warrior?”

“I guess so.” He grinned into the darkness. A warrior. He
liked the sound of that. He wasn’t sure if he was a warrior, but he had always
been a fighter.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to do anything else?”

“I don’t think I know
how
to do anything else.”

“How long are we going to stay here?”

“I don’t know. Why? Do you want to leave?”

“No. I just…what are we going to do about Niklaus, about…”

“About what?”

“About us?”

Falkon grinned at her. “Is that a marriage proposal?”

She made a face at him. “Of course not,” she said tartly.

“Another hope crushed,” he muttered. “Though I can’t blame
you. I’m no prize, that’s for damn sure.”

“Stop that. I think you’re wonderful.”

“You just like me.”

“Yes,” she said solemnly. “I do. Tell me everything will
work out. Tell me we’ll always be together, no matter what.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I wish I could promise you that.”

“Tell me,” she said, blinking back her tears, “even if it’s
a lie.”

“We’ll always be together.” Lifting one hand, he wiped her
tears away. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.” He kissed her lightly. “I love
you, too, princess.”

She grinned at him through her tears. “Don’t call me that.”

He drew her closer. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in
the future, Ashlynne, but if it’s up to me, I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

It was a promise and a wish wrapped in a single word.

* * * * *

They spent a pleasant week with Darf and Chaney, and yet
Ashlynne could feel the underlying restlessness that plagued Falkon. Often,
late at night, she woke to find him pacing the floor, or standing at the
window, staring out into the darkness. She told herself there was nothing to
worry about, that it would just take some time for him to adjust to being free,
but she knew, deep down inside, that he was worried. And so was she. Niklaus
would look for them, of that she was certain. He wanted the mine, and he
wouldn’t rest until it was his. Until they resolved things with Niklaus, they
couldn’t return to Tierde. Nor could they go to Daccar. Without being told, she
knew that Niklaus would have people there, waiting, just in case Falkon decided
to return to his home. Her biggest fear was that Falkon would decide to go back
to Tierde, to confront Niklaus face to face.

“Ashlynne?”

“Did you say something? I’m sorry, I guess my mind was
elsewhere.”

Chaney smiled. “It wasn’t important. Are you feeling all
right?”

“Yes, fine.”

“Something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes.” Ashlynne sighed. “It’s Falkon.”

“He’s not happy here?”

“No, it’s not that. He’s just…restless.”

Chaney nodded. “Yes, I’ve sensed that. He’s free from the
mine, from the restraints, but he still feels trapped. Helpless.”

“Yes, exactly. He hasn’t said so, but I think he wants to go
home.”

“That’s not hard to understand. Don’t we all long for home,
wherever it might be?”

“Yes, I suppose so. My mother…” Ashlynne hesitated as the
pain of her mother’s loss stabbed through her again. “My mother was from Earth.
She always hoped to go back for a visit, but there was never time. And now…”

Chaney’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. “I’m
sorry,” she said softly. “You and Falkon have been through so much. You’re
lucky to have found each other.”

“Yes. I love him more than he’ll ever know.”

“That’s easy to see.”

“Is it?

“Oh, yes. I can see it in your eyes whenever you look at
him, the way you need to touch him.”

Ashlynne felt her cheeks grow warm. “I wasn’t aware that it
was so obvious.”

“I recognize it only because I have felt it myself.”

Ashlynne glanced at the clock. “How much longer do you think
they’ll be gone?”

“Not long.”

Ashlynne nodded. Falkon and Darf had gone into the city to
see if they could learn anything more about the attack on the mine. She had
wanted to go along, but Falkon had insisted she stay home with Chaney. She had
never liked waiting. She hadn’t realized quite how much until now. Where was
he?

* * * * *

Falkon lifted his glass and sipped his drink. If the
informer they’d found was to be believed, Hodore was innocent of the attack on
the mine.

“What about the two I saw?” Falkon asked.

The informer, whose name was Kye, glanced around. He was a
little man, with pale skin and enormous golden eyes. Leaning forward, he drew
his cloak more closely about him.

“Imposters,” Kye whispered. “Cenians disguised as Hodorian
soldiers.”

Falkon grunted softly as he remembered the day after the
attack. They had stopped at a pool to drink and Ashlynne had washed her hands.
She’d had some sort of greenish powder under her fingernails. She hadn’t known
what it was and he’d been too worried about getting away to give it much
thought at the time.

“Do you know who organized the attack?” Darf asked.

Kye nodded, his gaze darting into the far corners of the
room. “I have a name.”

Falkon leaned across the table. “What is it?”

“It will cost extra.”

“We’ve already given you five hundred credits,” Darf
exclaimed. “What more do you want?”

“Five hundred more.”

“Done,” Falkon said. “Give me the name.”

“Drade.”

Falkon swore softly. Drade, always Drade.

Kye shifted nervously in his seat, his restless gaze moving
around the room.

“Can you tell me anything else?” Falkon asked.

Kye shook his head. “I’ve said enough.”

He pushed back his chair, preparing to leave.

“Not so fast.” Falkon’s hand snaked out, closing around the
little man’s forearm. “Has the name Hassrick come up in any of this?”

“Hassrick? Niklaus or Rugen?”

“Either one.”

Kye settled into his chair once more. “I have heard that the
young Hassrick needs money very badly to repay a debt. I have heard that his
family stands on the brink of ruin.”

“Go on.”

“No, no, I can tell you no more.”

“Listen, you slimy little weasel, I’ve given you a thousand
credits,” Falkon said, tightening his hold on Kye’s wrist. “You’ll tell me
everything you know, or I’ll break your arm, and then your neck.”

“They are in it together,” Kye said. “Hassrick, Drade, and
the Cenian ambassador.”

“The Cenian ambassador,” Darf said. “What’s he got to do
with this?”

Kye shook his head. “I know not. I only know the three of
them were seen together on Hodore, both before and after the attack.”

“It just gets better all the time,” Falkon muttered.

Kye stared at Falkon. “You have something Hassrick wants
very badly. Be careful.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You fought on Riga Twelve.”

Falkon nodded.

“I was there”

“During the fight?”

“Yes. You saved my life.”

Darf slammed his fist on the table. “He saved your life, yet
you charged him a thousand credits for information? What kind of low life scum
are you?”

“I have a family to feed,” Kye said. “And I know that
Falkon’s woman can well afford the cost.”

“It’s all right, Darf,” Falkon said. He released his hold on
Kye’s arm. “Go on, get out of here.”

The little man needed no urging. Huddling deeper into his
cloak, the cowl pulled close around his face, he moved slowly toward the door,
looking neither right nor left.

“Well,” Darf said. “That was interesting.”

“Yeah. It all makes sense now.”

“It does? How about explaining it to me?”

“Hassrick needed money. Cenia has been trying to find a way
into the Confederation so they don’t have to go all the way to Ohnmahr for
fuel. Not only is it a long journey, but the crystals of Ohrnahr lack the
strength and longevity of those mined on Tierde.”

“Where does Drade fit in?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he must be the middleman. Cenia
probably promised him a place of power in exchange for his help. Ashlynne’s
father refused to consider accepting Cenia into the Confederation, so Hassrick
decided to get rid of Marcus. Ashlynne was supposed to be on Trellis when the
mine was attacked, but somebody got the dates wrong.”

Falkon grunted softly as the pieces seemed to fall into
place. “No wonder Hassrick was so eager for the marriage to take place. With
Ashlynne still alive, Romariz couldn’t take over the mine, and he still had a
chance to fulfill his bargain with the Cenians.”

“Falkon…”

“What?”

Darf lowered his voice. “I think we’re being watched.”

“Where?”

“The three men at the end of the bar. They’ve been watching
us for quite some time.”

Falkon leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out
to the side, as if he were working the kinks out of his back. From the corner
of his eye, he could see three men in long dark coats standing at the far end
of the bar near the door. “Got ‘em.”

“Do you recognize any of them?”

“The one on the right. His name’s Roge. He works for Drade.
I want him alive.”

Darf muttered an oath. “Why is it this happens every time
you show up?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess,” Falkon replied with a
devil-may-care grin. “Think how dull your life would be without me.”

“Nothing wrong with dull,” Darf retorted. “I like dull.”

Falkon stood up and moved toward the door. “You coming?

Darf sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in a long sigh.
“What do you think?” He stood up, muttering, “Chaney’s gonna be madder than a
Hordorian hellcat.”

Moving casually, Falkon walked toward the door. Darf paid
the bill, then followed Falkon outside.

“Have you got a weapon?” Darf asked.

“Stunner. You?”

“I’m always armed when I go anywhere with you,” Darf replied
dryly.

Falkon grinned. He could feel the adrenaline flowing.

“They’re coming,” Darf whispered.

“I hear ‘em.”

“You got a plan?”

Falkon shook his head and continued walked. “Where does this
street go?”

“Branches off a few yards down. If you go left, it leads
into the business district. The other way leads into a dead end.”

“Okay, the dead end it is.”

“Let’s hope it isn’t,” Darf muttered bleakly.

The alley was long and dark. A high wooden fence blocked the
far end. Falkon went half-way down and moved to the left; Darf moved to the
right.

The three men paused at the head of the alley. They
conferred a minute, then two of them entered the alley. The third waited on the
street.

Falkon stood with his back to the wall, listening. The two
men walked quietly, pausing every few seconds. There was the sound of a
scuffle, followed by a grunt. The second man passed in front of him, and there
was no time to wonder if Darf had won or lost. He fired the stunner. In the
flare of light that followed, he saw Darf standing over the fallen man, his
golden eyes gleaming. He glanced at the alley entrance and saw that the third
man was gone.

“That was too easy,” Darf said. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah.” Falkon looked at the man he’d stunned. It wasn’t
Roge. Neither was the man sprawled at Darf’s feet. “Did you kill him?”

Darf shook his head. “No,” he answered with some regret. “Do
you want me to?”

“No. Let’s go home.”

“The women? Are we going to tell them about this?”

“No, I don’t think so.”