razorsedge (65 page)

"I'm Tirak, Captain of the
Profit.
Like you, we're stuck here with engine troubles."
"Kusac," he said, then introduced the others. They'd decided to use their own names as the sound of them was close enough to be acceptable. He saw Tirak's brow raise questioningly and from his newly acquired knowledge of U'Churian culture, he added, "We're from the Outlands."
Tirak nodded again. "What goods do they bring here? Anything new?"
"Some unusual beverages, both alcoholic and nonalcoholic, drugs, technology, and craft work. The usual range."
"The same but different," agreed Tirak. Lowering his voice, he said conspiratorially, "You and your followers will join us later for some relaxation in the town?"
"Maybe," said Kusac. "Business first, and I have to look after her personally."
The eye ridge disappeared into the mane of hair this time. "There are more interesting females in the Port. They'll keep you warmer than this one has."
Fighting hard not to grin at Carrie's outraged thoughts, Kusac shrugged expressively. "Duty. I have to keep this one sweet tempered."
Tirak gave a deep throated laugh. "Duty can be carried too far! I'll leave you to your cold comfort. When you get bored, get a Jalnian to sweeten her and join us. As I said, we're here for a while." As he rose, he clasped Kusac briefly on the shoulder before rejoining his own table.
How dare he! How'd he know anyway?
she demanded.
Their sense of smell is sharper than ours,
Kusac sent placatingly, touching her hand briefly.
He can smell our scents on each other. He knows we're paired at the moment.
That's to the good,
sent Kaid.
He's less likely to be suspicious of us.
She muttered audibly under her breath as she spooned the last of her stew into her mouth and pushed the bowl aside.
Keep touching us, bumping into us all, you know the kind of behavior I mean,
sent Kaid.
That way we'll all have a similar alibi.
I can't be seen as an effective warrior and a clinging vine!
was her tart reply.
You and T'Chebbi will have to do some bumping into me yourselves!
Not a problem,
sent Kaid urbanely.
Kusac turned to the captain, grasping him by the arm to attract his attention.
"Now that we've landed, I'm in charge of this venture, no matter what Assadou has said. I need you to behave as you normally do when on leave here, but keep your ears and eyes open for news of any Sholans on the planet, or anything to do with the Valtegans."
"You have our help until it conflicts with our contract with Assadou. It is surprising that given all the Valtegans on Keiss, not one of them spoke of their purpose before dying. Perhaps you should have been firmer with them."
Kusac tried not to wince. The Sumaan could be less than gentle when policing Alliance disputes, and worse when fighting their own kind. "We used telepaths, but found nothing of any use before they died," he said.
The captain sighed. "We trade here for many years and never hear of the Valtegans until their two visits just over a year ago. They have not returned since. I feel we'll learn little about them. As for your people, to be slaves here for that length of time..." He left the sentence unfinished.
"We couldn't come sooner," said Kaid quietly, feeling stirrings of anger and suppressing it. "The authorities should have accepted another team instead of waiting for us."
The captain looked at him in surprise. "You should take no offense. I merely state a fact, not make a judgment."
"The delay annoys us all, Kishasayzar. Retrieving our people should have been a priority, but the Chemerians wanted the information on the Valtegans more and refused to allow another team to come to Jalna on a rescue mission."
"The Chemerians do not understand warriors," hissed Kishasayzar, coming as near to criticism of his employers as one of his kind would ever countenance. "We will see what we can discover. We stay here only one night, but you will find us in here at dusk every evening."
"We need to head up to our rooms now," Kusac said, getting to his feet. "We've work we must do. I assume that during the day there will be someone on board working on our engine failure." He emphasized the last two words.
"Yes. We will be ready when needed. Now I must go to see the Port Controller."
"Will there be trouble?" asked T'Chebbi.
Kishasayzar shrugged. "They can do nothing. Is another ship like us as Captain Tirak told you. A fine, no more, and not paid by us!" He grinned.
"Good. We'll join you for the evening meal tomorrow and see if you've any news."
They stopped at the bar to collect their keys, then headed up the rickety steps to the bedrooms. The building was made of timber, crudely but solidly constructed. In the passageway, oil lamps sat on high shelves, shedding pools of light that relieved the darkness only a little.
"I'll go first," said Kaid, holding his hand out for the key. "No point in taking chances."
Kusac mentally checked the room for intruders before Kaid unlocked it. When they entered, they found a lamp had been lit for them and in the grate, a small fire burned. Furniture was sparse. A wooden chair at either side of the fire, a small table, and a chest at the foot of the double bed was all it contained. The one window was shuttered against the night air.
T'Chebbi headed for the window, opening it to check for alternative exits. "Can get out here if need to," she said, closing and latching it again, satisfied they were secure. "Looks out onto back yard," she said. "If necessary, can climb down from here. There's a pipe beside the window. Best keep it closed lest others use it as entrance."
"But the heat," moaned Carrie. "Why do they have a fire in this weather?"
"Ignore it. We have to," said Kaid. He was at the other side of the room, trying the door set there. "It connects us to you," he said, opening it. "I suggest we keep it unlocked in case of emergencies."
"Sounds wise," agreed Kusac, going over to look into the room. It was identical to theirs apart from the two single beds. "We'll knock if we have news from Quin and Conrad for you."
T'Chebbi followed Kaid into the room.
"See you at first meal if not before," said Kaid, closing the door.
Carrie had carried the lamp over to the bed and was turning down the covers, examining the bedding. "I just hope it isn't flea-infested," she muttered, flinging the covers back up.
Kusac took the lamp from her and set it on the night table before throwing his pack down on the bed. "Stop fretting. If fleas are the worst of our worries, then we're doing well." Pulling his sword free, he slung it, then his belt and baldric beside the pack.
"Bring one of the blankets over," he said, squatting in front of the fire. "I want us to be comfortable while we work. Having said that," he muttered, standing up and reaching up under his tunic.
Carrie watched him in surprise. "What
are
you doing?" she asked, beginning to laugh at his antics.
"Getting this damned underwear off!" he said, pulling the decorated cord tie free and grabbing for the offending breech cloth as, unsupported, it began to fall down.
"It isn't that funny," he said, looking over at her. "How anyone can stand to wear these things is beyond me!"
"Modesty," she laughed. "They need to wear them, you don't. Imagine being..." she began.
"I can imagine it myself," he growled, throwing the garment onto the chest.
Still chuckling as she moved his belongings aside, Carrie pulled the top cover free and threw it over in his direction before taking off her own weapons and belt. By the time she joined him, he'd spread the blanket over the floor in front of the fire and was sitting there, leaning against the heavy chair.
"Sit with your back to me," he said, reaching up to tug her down beside him. He pulled her closer until she was leaning against his chest.
She sighed, and he could feel the tension drain out of her. Wriggling a little, she made herself more comfortable, then leaned her head back against his shoulder.
"Are you relaxed enough?" he asked gently, his voice soft in her ear.
She nodded.
"Then let's search and see if we can find any Sholans apart from ourselves nearby."
Their minds linked and Carrie focused their thoughts on the area surrounding the Port. Even among so many aliens, if there was a pattern that was uniquely Sholan, they'd find it. For a long time they searched, quartering the area mentally, almost as if they could see the spaceport spread out below them like a map. Once there was something, almost a flicker, but it faded, lost among new alien presences they'd never sensed before.
"Not U'Churian or Sumaan," said Carrie, finally giving up.
"The Cabbars? Kishasayzar said there were some in Port," Kusac hazarded.
"Possible. Shall we look for Quin, then stop for tonight?"
He licked the edge of her ear. "Are you sure you're up to it?"
"I'm fine," she said, beginning to still her mind again. She reached for Quin's mental signature, seeing his face before her, then sent their combined thoughts in his direction.
Almost instantly, they sensed his presence.
We're in a village some ten miles from the Port. Found ourselves a reasonable inn to put up in. Decent beer and the food's edible. The locals are friendly enough and have accepted us as Jalnians. I don't anticipate any problems. How's it with you?
Fine. We've acquired a working knowledge of U'Churian now. Kusac will send it to you,
replied Carrie.
Kusac increased the contact, taking control of it before gradually beginning to transfer what Carrie had learned from the U'Churian at the inn. It took a little time but was helped by the fact that they'd used the method before to transfer knowledge between them on the inward journey to Jalna.
Assadou's supposed to be trying to arrange passes and a Trade mission for us, hopefully to Kaladar. If he does, I'll need you two along. Get as much information as you can in the next day or two, then move on to the village outside the Port. That's where they hire people for the caravans.
We'll move as fast as possible, but if we're going to get their trust, we have to take it easy.
Do what you can. I'll be in touch.
The contact was broken, leaving Kusac and Carrie alone. He blinked, once more aware of the glow from the fire and the lamp. Carrie, her eyes closed, was lying exhausted against him. Lowering his head, he licked her gently below the ear, receiving only the faintest of smiles by way of response.
"When all I get is a smile, then I know you're tired," he said, rubbing his cheek against hers.
Too tired to even talk,
came the faint thought.
"Then let me get up. I've something in my bag that should help," he said, waiting till she moved forward before scrambling to his feet.
Bending down, he lifted her up and carried her over to the bed, putting her down carefully amid the various swords and bags. He touched her face briefly.
"You really are exhausted, aren't you? I knew we had left Shola too soon. You haven't gotten your strength back yet."
"I'm fine," she retorted sharply as he leaned across her to dig in his bag. "I don't want one of Vanna's stimulants," she warned as he drew out a small package.
"I should think not," he replied with a grin. "They're only for emergencies. All you need is a good night's rest."
A packet of homemade biscuits landed in her lap. With a cry of delight she snatched them up. Opening the pack, she took one out and began to munch it.
"They're your mother's, aren't they? I'd recognize them anywhere." She helped herself to a second.
Kusac moved their belongings onto the chest at the end of the bed. "I only brought a few with me, but we should be able to find something in the market to replace them. Even dried fruit will raise our depleted blood sugar levels when we've been working." He handed Carrie her pistol. "Keep it under the pillow. You never know when you might need it. You settle down and I'll see to updating Kaid and T'Chebbi."
"Finding those four missing Sholans might prove impossible, Kusac," she said. "If this Strick and the rebellion know nothing about them, we may have to concentrate on pulling Jo's team out."
"It's early days yet. I don't want to give up on them unless we have no option. Once we have Jo's people safe on the
Hkariyash,
then we can take more time to locate them."
"We might not get out of the Port a second time."
"Wait and see what Quin comes up with first," he said, heading over to the connecting door.

* * *

Jo sat at the table in the Great Hall letting the sound of chatter and laughter fade until she barely noticed it. These twice weekly evenings were a strain on them all. After a day spent working in the drafty, poorly lit converted stable, fending off Belamor's insistent questions, she would have preferred the peace and quiet of their chambers upstairs. A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie and back to reality. Looking up, she found herself face-to-face with Taradain. His face was flushed, and she remembered noticing he'd been drinking heavily.
"I want to talk to you," he said in a low voice.
"What is it, Taradain?"
"Not here. Take a walk with me."
"Forget it." She turned back to the table.
His hand clamped on her shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh. "
Not
here. Outside, and don't draw attention to me by refusing."
She looked up at him, mouth opening to answer him when he abruptly bent down.
"You want your friend to die?" he hissed in her ear. "Hear what I have to say first."
"Not outside," she said flatly, suppressing Rezac's anger by walling her mind off from his.
"To the second pillar then," he conceded. "And in the name of the Gods, look like you're
pleased
to be with me!"
She got to her feet, allowing the young Jalnian to take her by the elbow and draw her toward the end of the table.
"Smile, dammit," he muttered, a fake grin plastered on his face as he bowed to his father.
Kris was sending to her, too, wanting to know what she was doing. With a quick,
Later,
she thrust him aside.
"What do you want, Taradain?" she asked as they stopped by the pillar. Around the Hall, several other people had gotten up and were gathered in small groups talking; she and Taradain were not attracting too much attention.
"You," he said bluntly. "The alien woman is dying. She needs to get back to her own kind. I'll help them escape, if you remain here with me."
She looked at him, speechless with shock. "Your help would be wonderful, Taradain," she said, "but you know I need to be with Rezac."
"Don't give me that rubbish about the dependence between your people because I don't believe it! No matter what my father says, I'm not stupid. I know you don't want me, that's why I'm prepared to help your friends— for a price."
"You're drunk!" she said in disgust. "What you're suggesting is immoral.
If
I agreed, you'd have a shell, a body, not me. Is that what you really want?"
His face darkened with anger. "`I'll take you any way I can! Because of you I've been held up to ridicule by my father and all the court! This way I get back my pride, and have you! Well? Do you agree or not?"
Jo ran through their options. There weren't many. The caravan should be due any day now. Staying behind with Taradain was not a sensible option, but if all else failed... "I'll need to think about it," she said, turning away.
Taradain caught hold of her by the wrist. "No! Decide now or I withdraw my offer."
"I told you, I can't stay. I need to be with Rezac," she said angrily, hitting his hand away. "If I'm separated from him, I'll die!"
"And I told you, don't treat me like a fool! You can't have a dependence on him, you're too different." He caught hold of her wrist again.
"It's true whether you believe it or not, and I don't intend to prove it to you. Now let go of me, Taradain!" she hissed.
He pulled her closer till they were eye to eye, searching her face. "You believe it, though, don't you? What if I prove it wrong?"
"You can't."
"What happens? Do you sicken and die, or just... die?" he demanded.
"What's the difference?" she snapped. "I can't and won't stay and that's an end to it!"
"If you sicken first, then I'll let you return to him, and still help you all escape."
"What?" She stopped struggling and looked at him.
"I'll return you and still help you escape. Dammit, I don't want to cause your death! I'm not some kind of monster!"
"Why?" She was confused.
"Because I'll have gained my honor in front of these sheep!" he snarled. "Now, do you accept or not? My father's looking at us. You've run out of time. Yes or no?"
An icy calm settled on her. Their freedom, in exchange for sleeping with Taradain. She'd done it before with the Valtegans, and at least the Jalnians were almost human. Rezac was more alien than Taradain. If he let her return and helped them all escape, it was worth it. If.
"I can only stay three days, then I have to go back to him." She was amazed at how calm her voice sounded. "And you have to make sure he gets an adequate supply of the same food as is served in the Hall." She'd been sneaking what food she could to Rezac, but it wasn't really enough.
"Three days, then— and the food— but during that time, you'll look like you're enjoying my company. Agreed?"
"Agreed," she said through gritted teeth.
His hand reached for the back of her neck, holding her still while he leaned forward to kiss her. "Starting right now!" he hissed.
Like a sleeper, she lifted her face to his and forced herself to respond. He had the good sense not to push her and the kiss was short.
He drew back and took hold of her hand. "I'll send for your belongings."
"I'll go. I need to tell them..."
"No! Not tonight. Tonight you come with me. Tomorrow you can tell them."
"Tonight?" She hadn't though he'd demand her company immediately. It made sense: he was preventing the others from persuading her to refuse.
"Enough talk, my father's calling us," he said, starting to walk back to the table. When she didn't come, he stopped and turned round to her. "Dammit! You want to ruin this already? You've just agreed to be my lover, try and act like it's real!"
She forced herself to move, forced a smile to her lips as she let him lead her back to the top table.
"Taradain! What's this?" Killian demanded loudly. "You still forcing yourself on my guest? She made it plain she doesn't want you!" A chorus of laughter spread round the room.
Flushing again, the young man waited till it stopped. "No, Father. The lady has changed her mind. She wants me to have her belongings brought to my room."
Killian looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
Jo felt Taradain's fingernails digging into her hand. She forced a brighter smile on her face. "If you would be so kind," she said quietly.
The Lord looked from her to Kris then back. "You wish to move in with my son?" he asked incredulously.
"She just said so," snapped Taradain, drawing her closer to his side and putting a proprietary arm round her waist.
"I'll hear it from the lady," said Killian mildly.
"Yes," she said, feeling her face starting to burn with embarrassment. At the edges of her mind, she could feel both Rezac and Kris clamoring. She needed every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep them at bay. "It's what I wish, Lord Killian. Please have my things sent to your son's room."
Killian sat back in his chair, fingering his beard thoughtfully before turning and gesturing to one of the guards behind him. The soldier approached and bent down to hear his orders. Nodding, he left the Hall.
"It is being seen to," he said. "I have to admit you've surprised me, Taradain. Don't let us detain you any longer. You are excused from the table. You and your lovely companion may retire."
"Thank you," said Taradain, sketching a bow and tugging on Jo's hand, warning her to do the same. Turning, he led her from the room. As they passed between the huge double doors, the silence behind them was broken by a sudden babble of excited voices.