Mission To Mahjundar (15 page)

“Kind of you,” she answered. “I feel unwell from my fall, so perhaps a wagon is the best solution for tonight.”

In the next minute, Shalira stiffened, choking back a gasp of outrage as Bandarlok picked her up like a child, carrying her in his beefy arms to the waiting, enclosed wagon. Ignoring her repeated requests to be set down, he deposited her inside, closing the dark brown leather curtains at the rear. He started shouting orders to his men, who scattered to collect the horses and gear of Vreely’s squad.

Brow furrowed, Johnny glanced from the wagon to Mike. Swallowing any comments he might have made about the scene that had just concluded, he said, “I’ll finish the demolition work and fetch our mounts.”

“Fine. The sooner we’re out of here the better.” As Johnny was leaving, Mike snagged his sleeve. “Get our blasters out of the locked packs, would you? I’m done walking around with inferior gear on this planet to be politically correct. Fuck the rules of engagement. What the Foreign Service types don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Now you’re talking! Wish we’d done that yesterday.” Saluting enthusiastically, Johnny trotted off.

A few minutes later the anticipated explosion came from high on the valley wall, followed by a rumbling, crashing rock slide. As Mike rode out of the valley, the dust was settling under a fine mist of rain. The only evidence available to any searchers from the city would be Vreely's dead horse, which he couldn’t conceal.
Let them chew on the mystery and think what they want.
There’d be no definitive answers without moving the tons of boulders covering Vreely’s last resting place.
The empress isn’t likely to order such a search
.
 

Johnny reined his horse in to match Mike’s speed. “I think I might have used a tad too much explosive there, but it did the job.”

“The results are what counts,” Mike answered tersely. He spurred the stallion forward, wanting to avoid any further conversation with anyone for a while.
 

Rethinking the scene in the tomb between himself and Shalira, he pondered what she’d said to him. He certainly understood the demands imposed by duty and he had to admit an appreciation for her two-pronged strategy, obtaining the services of two of the Sectors’ most deadly operators to ensure she reached her groom alive and getting word to Bandarlok to arrive early, in the valley. It wasn’t her fault he’d managed to fall in love with her on the trip to the tombs.
He should have kept his hands to himself and his mouth shut. Never mind she’d seemed to reciprocate his feelings, at least to some extent. Offering asylum without making it clear how much she’d come to mean to him personally had been a bonehead move.
We’re never going to have another chance to talk about it now. But how can she seriously plan to marry this guy, no matter what her father paid in dowry? She’s the one who has to live with the consequences, day in and day out, not the emperor.
Mike rode in a moody silence, wrapped in his bleak musing. He knew Johnny was watching him, clearly reluctant to break Mike's concentration.
I’ve got to get my head back in the mission where it belongs. Certainly before I talk to the overbearing chieftain again.

CHAPTER SIX

The threatened storm failed to break. The dark clouds covered the sky from edge to edge of the horizon, filled with rumblings and ominous flashes. Like a solid weight pressing on Mike’s shoulders, the humidity grew oppressive, but very little rain fell.
 

Striking away from the road, Bandarlok set a fast pace, leading the column for a good hour and a half in a straight line for the highlands. The Djeelaba Mountains towered beyond, improbably lofty, tops hidden by the cloud cover. They were so tall they created their own weather on the highest peaks, which could be an added complication for the mission, although in this season of the Mahjundan year, the likelihood of blizzards was less.
 

At length, the small party of riders and the accompanying wagon carrying the princess came to a grove of sturdy trees clustered beside a small lake. The rapidly setting sun threw long shadows from the trees across the rippling water.

“We won't find anything better before dark,” Bandarlok announced as the group sat in the saddles, allowing their weary horses to drink. “Best make camp here.”
 

Mike cast an eye at the sky and the lengthening shadows. The worst of the storm clouds had stayed centered over the Valley of the Tombs. “We’ve a tent for Her Highness in the gear, which will provide privacy for Johnny to examine her.”
 

“What makes you think I’m going to allow any man to touch my woman?” Bandarlok said. “Particularly an outworlder?”

“She took a pretty bad fall back there in the tomb. Someone needs to check out her condition.” Mike kept a tight rein on his temper. It was imperative Shalira get medical attention; getting into a confrontation with Bandarlok wasn’t going to accomplish that. “Maybe my guy can assist your healer?”

“Sure, I’d be more than happy to help,” Johnny agreed, taking his medkit out of the saddlebags.

“I didn’t bring a healer on such a simple trip,” Bandarlok said, rolling his eyes. “My warriors don’t require pampering for anything less than grievous wounds suffered in battle.”

“Well, the princess needs a healer, so I guess it’ll have to be Johnny then.” Mike rested his hand on the butt of his blaster, willing to push the issue however hard he had to, to ensure the princess was properly cared for. He forced the next words through gritted teeth. “You want your bride to be fit for the wedding, right?”

Relaxing, Bandarlok nodded. “When you express the situation in such terms, I can agree. She shall have her tent and the medical services.”
 

Shalira had no clear memory of the events after they’d escaped her mother’s tomb. She remembered every word she’d exchanged with Michael in the entrance to the unused tomb, however, and the stabbing pain in her heart after she allowed herself one tempting kiss. The intimacy had only made it more excruciating to know she had to follow her path of duty to carry out her father’s wishes.
I wanted Michael to hold me, kiss me once, so I’d have the memory to sustain me through the long years ahead as Bandarlok’s wife. But oh, now I know what a broken heart means.
And then he’d been so angry when Bandarlok showed up. He’d no right to be upset—she’d sent word to Bandarlok long before the outworlder even set foot on Mahjundar, but Michael had given her no chance to explain. Maybe his reaction said something about the depth of his true feelings for her? Was he jealous of Bandarlok’s claim on her?

She’d regained consciousness on her back, lying somewhere unknown, still fully dressed. Mike, Saium and Bandarlok argued somewhere in the distance. She tried to call out to them, to plead for quiet, to beg for water, but her voice was a dismal croak. When she flung her hands out, scrabbling her fingertips over the surfaces on either side of her, there was only a canvas floor around the mattress, as if she was in a tent.

Weeping, she yielded to the maw of the vertigo. Suddenly, Johnny was there in the tent with her, his deep, quiet voice calming as he took off her boots. “Shh, Your Highness, I’m trying to make you a bit more comfortable. Nothing more, I promise. Don’t distress yourself. Lie still and let me check this head injury.”

“Hurry up, outworlder. It isn’t proper for you to be in such close proximity to my woman,” said Bandarlok from somewhere off to the left, his voice grating and too loud. “Can she travel tomorrow morning or not?”

“Too soon to say, sir, but she’s seriously ill from the blow on the head, so I doubt it. I need to do a proper examination.”

Attempting to sit up, Shalira was racked by dry heaves. Johnny supported her, gently rubbing her back. “I’ll give you something for nausea in a minute, ma’am.”

Easy tears flooded her eyes as she realized how weak she felt. Grateful for his attempt to give comfort, she said, “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You probably got a concussion when you hit the corner of the sarcophagus. The nausea’s all part of it.” He was reassuring, helping her lie back as the spasms faded.

“I’ll be outside by the fire,” Bandarlok said. “Tending a sick woman isn’t a proper task for a warrior. Her present condition disgusts me.”

Shalira heard the tent flaps fall with a soft whispering sound. “I—I’m sure he didn’t mean to be insulting.”

“No worries.” Johnny laughed. “I’ve had worse things said to me. Or about me.”
 

“What of Michael?” She reached out, hoping he was in the tent as well.

Johnny took her hand and squeezed gently, leaning close. “He’s worried about you, but Bandarlok won’t let him come near you. The best we could manage was for me to come in, do a quick exam and report back. Your fiancé didn’t bring a healer with him, and I’m a medic.”
 

“Oh.” Disappointed but not surprised, she lay back as he drew a warm blanket over her. Perhaps it was for the best if she didn’t spend any more time with Michael. “Thank you, sergeant.”

“No problem, ma’am.”
 

She heard small rustling noises as he got items out of a pack, laying them on the blanket beside her. Rubbing her temples, despite the fact the motion gave no relief, she said, “Where are we?”

“Camped by a pretty little stream, a couple of hours’ ride from the Valley of Tombs. Bandarlok had his men set up the tent for you. The rest of us are gonna sleep in the open, including him.”

Grateful for the information, Shalira relaxed a little. The idea of sharing her tent with her husband-to-be was too overwhelming to contemplate tonight, sick as she felt. She was beginning to realize how terrifying it was to be entirely in Bandarlok’s power. He demonstrated no respect for her royal blood. As soon as she felt better, she’d have to establish some boundaries, a more balanced relationship with the man. She refused to let herself worry about the possibility Bandarlok would insist on keeping the current demeaning approach to her. “Where’s Saium?”

“Outside, standing guard.” Matter-of-factly, Johnny did a quick exam, checking her reflexes, among other things. “You can’t see, not even silhouettes?” he asked at one point.

“Of course not. The potion I used in the tomb wore off long ago. You know that. Why are you asking?”

“Just medical curiousity on my part, ma’am. Nothing to worry over.” After concluding his exam, he said, “Mild concussion, nothing too serious. I’ll recommend to Bandarlok we stay put for the next day, maybe two. By then you should be out of any danger, good to travel.”

Shalira clutched at his arm. “What about you and Michael?”

“Mike told Bandarlok we’re going along to his settlement, said the emperor had ordered us to accompany you there.” He laughed. “I go where Mike leads, always have since we were kids.”
 

“I’m grateful. It’ll be nice to know you’re both still with me.”

“Only till we see you safely to your new home.” He folded her hand around a cup and obediently she drank, relishing the cool water. “It’s not too much of a detour.”

 
His answer was flat and she felt oddly disappointed. But what had she expected? Why would Michael stay? She’d given him her answer, hadn’t she? Better for them both if he moved on.

The sergeant touched her hand, interrupting her train of thought. “If you’re done with the water, I’m going to give you something for the headache and nausea.” Johnny pressed something to her upper arm for a moment, creating a feeling of pressure and localized heat.

Handing him the mug, Shalira felt a warm lassitude spreading through her body from the site. “Thank you.”

Rubbing her arm, he laughed. “You probably won’t be thanking me when I wake you up at intervals all night, but I gotta follow protocol for a concussion patient.”

“I’m sorry to be causing you so much trouble,” she said drowsily, on the verge of drifting off.

“Happy to help. Now, the water jug and the cup are about a foot off to the left of your bed, if you want more later. Try to drink as often as you can.” She could hear beeps and clicks as Johnny packed up his medical tools. He leaned close to her ear. “Walk carefully with this Bandarlok guy until you know him better, okay? He seems to have a hair trigger.”

“I will,” she promised in a matching whisper. “Can you ask Michael–”

He squeezed her fingers tightly as the tent flaps snapped open and Bandarlok’s voice boomed inside the tent. “Why is this taking so long? I said you could have a few moments to treat my woman, not all night.”

“I’m done, sir.” Johnny stood and walked away, his steps thudding on the tent floor. “I’ll have to check in on her every few hours from now until dawn, make sure she hasn’t slipped into a coma.”

“We can discuss the need for such measures later.” Bandarlok’s voice faded as the two men moved out of the tent.

Johnny had awakened her all through the night as promised, but even though they were alone each time— Bandarlok having refused to interrupt his own slumbers to tend to her— Shalira was too disoriented from the concussion and the powerful medications to talk to the sergeant about Michael again. And truth be told, she felt a little frightened of her new situation. She didn’t want to know anything else that might confirm her growing suspicion she’d landed in a spot even less desirable than her life in the palace.
I’m sick, not thinking right. Everything will be fine when I’m more myself, on my feet and able to reassure Bandarlok. He’s worried about me, like a proper husband-to-be.
But the optimistic words sounded hollow even to herself.