Read Mission To Mahjundar Online

Authors: Veronica Scott

Mission To Mahjundar (14 page)

Averting her face, Shalira’s voice was low and crisp. “You’re talking madness now. What alternative, as you call it, do I have? Where else can I go? Back to the capital? I told you, the empress will have me killed. The emperor would do nothing to prevent it, since I’d have sullied his name by breaking the marriage agreement. Are you suggesting I wander alone in the badlands until I perish?”
 

Wishing he hadn’t baldly blurted the question out, Mike tried to fix his mistake without fully committing himself to a future course of action. “Of course not. You could—you could ask for asylum in the Sectors.”

He wanted to protect her, keep her safe from all the troubles of her own world. The idea of handing her over to the unknown, probably barbarian, forest chieftain felt wrong. The reality of never seeing her again afterward was like a knife to his heart. She was meant to be
his,
he knew it to the core of his being but she had to make the choice. “I can make it happen, if you choose. I wouldn’t mention the possibility otherwise.”

 
She waited in silence for a moment, as if expecting him to add something else to his explanation. When he didn’t, she threw out her arms. “What would I, a blind exile from backwater Mahjundar, do in your outworld? Throw myself on the mercy of your politicians? When they desperately want to make a treaty with my father so they can exploit our mineral resources?” Snorting in a most unladylike fashion, Shalira raised her head. “I refuse to be an object of pity, a recipient of charity. At least here I have a place, precarious and unappealing as it may seem to you.” Eyes flashing, lips compressed, she brushed tears away. “But even more important, I must carry out the emperor’s wishes.”

Mike wanted to take her in his arms again. There was so much more to say. He licked his lips, reached out to her but she held herself stiffly away from him as soon as she felt his touch. He kept his gentle hold on one slender wrist. “No, you’re mistaking my meaning. I apologize, Your Highness, I’m expressing myself badly. I’ve started this all wrong.” He ran his other hand through his hair and groaned at his ineptitude. Whatever had possessed him to bring the subject up without preamble? Without committing himself? “I didn’t mean to distress you, and I apologize. I just thought, I mean, on the trail these last few days, at the temple, in the tomb…it seemed there was something between us, something we both felt, or I’d never have spoken.”

Shalira shook her head. “The subject is finished. It has to be.”

He let his arms drop and stepped back a little.
I’ll try again later, after dinner perhaps, when she’s calmer. I know there’s something between us, attraction she can’t deny. Maybe I should have started a little more slowly on asking her to come with me. Led up to the subject.
“Shall I escort you to the horses now?”

“Yes, Major Varone. I think you’d better.” She stood stiffly in front of him, wrapping herself in the cloak he handed her. There was a minute of silence, as neither made any move toward the entrance to the tomb. Finally, Shalira spoke again without looking in Mike’s direction. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. I never meant to hurt you.”

Hoping she was rethinking her plan, he said, “Then let me explore getting you some other options—”

But the princess was shaking her head. “You’re an officer. You understand the demands of duty. No less than any soldier, I must carry out the emperor’s orders. There’s no use, no use at all, in discussing anything else. What I might want, what I might feel as a woman, rather than a princess carrying out the terms of the emperor’s treaty, none of that counts. Don't you see? I’ve been given no choices to make.” A single tear rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes. “The things you spoke of are impossible. Perhaps if we’d met under other circumstances, but as matters stand, I have no choice. Honor demands I walk the road I’ve agreed to. I have to live with myself, Major.”

“We'd better get back to the others.” Mike repressed the urge to wipe the tears from her face and kiss her again.
She made her position clear all right, no point in prolonging the pain for either of us.
“Johnny should be setting off an explosion to trigger a landslide any minute now, so don't be dismayed by the sudden noise, your highness.”
 

But Johnny unexpectedly came through the tomb opening. “We’ve got complications.”

Mike contained his exasperation, keeping his voice level despite an overwhelming urge to swear. “Now what?”

The sergeant glanced at Shalira. “I uh, I think the lady’s fiancé has come to collect her. Big guy, leading about twenty armed riders, just came galloping into the valley. Saium’s palavering with them now in some dialect we weren’t trained on.”

“Bandarlok came,” Shalira exclaimed, “I trusted he would.”

Despite the immediate anger rising in his heart, Mike had ice in his veins. “You sent for him? When?”

“I sent word to him of my fears of treachery, told him he might lose all if he waited for Vreely to bring me to the highlands. Saium found a reliable messenger, paid a sizable bribe.” She frowned, smoothing her dress with a nervous gesture. “I’d suggested Bandarlok meet my caravan before we reached the temple, but perhaps there were unavoidable delays.”

“Was this before or after you had your father draft Johnny and me into escorting you?” Mike tried not to let his anger show through, but Shalira recoiled as if he’d slapped her.

“I—I hadn’t met you, had no idea of asking you for help—”

“But then we came along and you thought you’d hedge your bets. Nicely done, Your Highness. I guess I’m a sucker for tears and sad stories.”
How could I forget she was raised in the poisonous stew of the palace? I was briefed—it’s all games and manipulation with her people, and she’s apparently no different.
Still burning, rightly or wrongly, from her refusal to even discuss an attempt to seek asylum in his world, Mike used this new development to stoke the flames of his anger so the pain of losing her wouldn’t strike so deep.
“Johnny, let’s escort the lady to her eager bridegroom. Then we can proceed on our own mission with no further delay.”

Without another word he guided her from the tomb and down the stairs, Johnny trailing behind with the saddlebag containing the relics they’d retrieved. A large group of colorfully dressed warriors, some armed with bows, others carrying swords or guns, was waiting at the foot of the stairs. The men inspected Shalira with interest, the boldest making laughing comments behind their hands. Off to the side Saium stood, frowning. He pushed past the newcomers to meet Shalira and her escorts.

“Which one is the man of the hour?” Mike asked, releasing Shalira’s hand. He made a quick assessment of the newcomers.
Can’t say I like the looks of any of these brigands.

“Bandarlok waits for the princess a short distance from here,” Saium said as he took her elbow to lead her away from the tomb entrance. It was slow-going over the rocky ground and Shalira was unusually unsteady. Over his shoulder, Saium added, “The chief said it wasn’t proper for her to begin their relationship by descending from the heights while he stood on the ground.”

“Really?” Still angry at how Shalira had maneuvered him, Mike was briefly tempted to mount his horse and leave the vicinity, but he realized he’d never forgive himself if he rode away from her now.
I need to
see this through so I can forget her
. He paced after Saium, Johnny trailing them.
 

The warriors came behind, muttering and laughing, which grated on Mike’s nerves. A hundred feet or so away stood a man who had to be Bandarlok. He was as tall as Mike, well over six feet, but built along the lines of a battle cruiser. He had thickly muscled arms and legs, long dark red hair caught back in two messy braids, a beard and a huge gut that bulged unattractively under his black leather shirt. A crudely sewn flag bearing the insignia of the bartuk, a kind of Mahjundan bear Mike recognized from the wildlife briefing, was held aloft by a youth who had to be a son, given his hair color and outsize frame. Two bartuks were tattooed in blue on Bandarlok's upper arms.
 

Saium took the duty of spokesman. “I present the Princess Shalira, daughter of the Emperor Kajastahn, come to be your bride, mighty Bandarlok, as per the treaty.”
 

As Shalira made a slight curtsey, Bandarlok stared at her with a coldly evaluating eye. “I’ve heard of your beauty, princess,” he said in a booming, gravelly voice. “Your father’s emissaries told the truth for once.”

“I–I thank you for the kind words, sir.” Shalira retreated a step closer to Saium.

Stepping forward, Bandarlok took her by the hand, pushing her guardsman out of the way. He shoved her hair off her forehead, forcing the princess to tilt her chin so he could get the fading sunlight to fall directly on her face. “This bruise results from some mishap along the trail, I assume? It will fade?”

“Yes, my lord. I struck my head, in my mother's tomb today. I’m sure any discoloration will soon disappear.” Shalira sounded anxious to alleviate his concern.

“Good. The mark is disfiguring, and I’ve accepted enough already, blind one.”
 

She shrank from the flat, disapproving tone. Bandarlok had spoken as if he blamed her for acquiring the blemish on purpose to displease him.
 

The chieftain laughed, crushing her slender body to his for a noisy, slobbering kiss on the lips. “Never mind, having finally seen you, the bargain is sealed.” One huge, rough hand roved familiarly down her back, cupping her butt as he continued to hold her close. “I might take you even if you don’t have the additional items I requested.”

“I brought the Windhunter Clan insignia from the tomb,” Shalira said in a strained voice, making futile efforts to gracefully step out of the embrace. “Saium has them in our packs.”

“Excellent. I’ll take possession of the items later, when we make camp for the night.” Bandarlok nuzzled her neck, wrenched the pins from her hair to run his fingers through the long silky locks.

Mike reined in his temper as long as he could, watching her reaction to Bandarlok's wandering hands.
This is her choice, and I’ve no right to interfere. No right at all.
But as the silver hair pins clattered to the ground, he said, “Not to intrude, sir, but we should let my sergeant check the princess’s condition.”

“And you are?” Bandarlok’s frown was monumental.

Mike had faced more imposing enemies than this barbarian. He kept his voice neutral, businesslike. “Major Varone, Sectors Special Forces. Her Highness sustained a nasty blow to the head earlier. She might have a concussion.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bandarlok stared at Mike over Shalira’s head. “Ah yes, the outworlders. The palace sent a messenger to inform me you were escorting her, along with the empress’s troops.” He stared around the valley. “Who I see you’ve handily disposed of.”

“As Her Highness had suspected, the men assigned to be her guards tried to assassinate her earlier today,” Mike said. “We took appropriate action.”

Laughing, Bandarlok nodded. “I’ll safeguard my prize now, eh?” He caressed Shalira’s cheek, but his attention was on Mike. “Your task is concluded, Major. You can be on your way with no further concerns. Unless you need guides to the Djeelaba Mountains, perhaps? Such arrangements can be negotiated, for a price.”
 

Mike made an immediate decision.
No way in hell am I taking guides supplied by this character.
“My sergeant and I are well equipped with maps, thanks. But the message must have been garbled—we’re to escort the princess all the way to your settlement.” He ignored Johnny’s quickly muted reaction. Shalira swung her head in his direction for a second. “My orders came directly from the emperor’s vizier.” He shrugged. “So we’ll be riding along. May I suggest we get mounted, leave the valley before the storm breaks?” A crash of thunder overhead added emphasis to his remark.

 
Bandarlok frowned. The warriors behind Mike’s back muttered. He heard the rustling of men palming weapons, prepared for action if their chief gave the order.

“I need to set off the explosion, seal the tomb,” Johnny reminded him in a low voice.

“Very well, we’ll leave this place of death, establish camp before dark, and we can discuss your orders from the emperor while we eat,” Bandarlok said. He glanced over at the string of cavalry horses Saium and Johnny had assembled as they’d cleaned up the valley after the battle. Rubbing his chin, an acquisitive gleam in his eyes, the chief nodded. “I’ll take the horses as further payment on her dowry, since dead men have no need of such fine mounts and I do.”

“Excluding
my
horses and gear, of course,” Mike said, hand on the gun at his hip.

“Of course.” Bandarlok’s agreement was immediate, his grin toothy. He pulled Shalira to face him again, bending low and speaking slowly, as if she were a child or a halfwit. “You’d have no way of knowing, of course, but women of the clans are not so forward with their appearance as you city folk.”

“What do you mean?” Fine wrinkles furrowed her brow as she listened to the admonition.

He waggled a finger in front of her nose, which of course she couldn’t see. “Women don’t ride as if they are the equals of the men. I’ve told my warriors not to be offended by your actions today.” He made a dismissive hand gesture. “No need to concern yourself, I’ve brought a wagon for you to ride in, as a high-born female should. Come, let me escort you to the conveyance, and then we can be on our way.”

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