The Captive (15 page)

Ashlynne hardly slept that night. All she could think about
was the whereabouts of the controller. Had Falkon found it? She started at
every sound, expecting him to come bursting through the door and…what? Ravish
her? Tie her up? Make her pay for the pain and humiliation she had caused him?

She pulled the covers up to her chin and stared into the
darkness. The bed was narrow, the mattress hard and unfamiliar. And it was
quiet, so quiet. The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than she heard a
horrible shriek from somewhere outside. What kind of animal made such a sound?
Or had it been an animal? They hadn’t seen any signs of human habitation. She
shivered, remembering the cannibals they had encountered in the jungle on
Tierde.

Tierde. The only home she had ever known. The seasons would
be changing now. The Season of Mists had always been her favorite time of year.
She had always loved the heavy rains that watered the ground, the oddly eerie
greenish light of the twin moons as Riasna and Brell rose in tandem. She had
been five or six the first time her mother had told her the story of the twin
moons. Tears slid down her cheeks as she thought of her parents. Had they
suffered much? Did they know she was safe? She would never see them again. She
wished now that she had told her mother and father more often that she loved
them. She thought of Magny, her best friend, her only friend, and the days and
nights they had spent together, laughing and sharing secrets, planning for the
future…

Her tears came faster, and she dashed them away. She would
not cry! But she couldn’t seem to stop. A sob rose in her throat as she wept
for all she had lost: her loved ones, the security of a home, the sense of
belonging, her piano, the beautiful chestnut mare her father had given her.
Gone, all gone, destroyed in a moment’s madness, and her childhood with it.

She took a deep breath. She had never wanted to marry
Niklaus; now, he represented safety and shelter. Without him, she would truly
be alone. She wondered if Commander Casman had informed Niklaus of Falkon’s
escape. She wondered if Niklaus was concerned about her, or even cared. They
had never met face to face; all their communications had been by mail, formal,
polite. He had expressed his willingness to have her for his bride, but no real
enthusiasm. No doubt he viewed their upcoming marriage as a duty to be
fulfilled, just as she had. Perhaps he would consider himself well rid of her.

She froze as she heard a knock at the door. There was no
need to ask who it was. “What do you want?”

“Are you all right in there?”

“Yes.” She sniffed. “I’m fine.”

Silence stretched between them. She tensed when she heard
him try the door, wondering if he would break it down.

She was still wondering when she fell asleep.

* * * * *

Falkon sat in the cockpit, his left leg draped over the arm
of his chair. Gazing into the darkness, he weighed his options. Returning to
Daccar was risky. By now, Drade would know of his escape from Tierde. No doubt
spies were already in place at his usual haunts, listening, waiting. He could
go into hiding somewhere until things cooled off. Once he turned Ashlynne over
to her fiancé, he would have enough credits to live in style for a good long
time. He could rent a place on some out of the way planet, stock it with food
and drink, hire a little housekeeper who would be willing to take care of all
his needs, and take a well earned vacation.

He grunted softly, wondering what Ashlynne’s fiancé was
like. Probably as spoiled and rich as she was. A perfect prince for a perfect
princess. Well, he was welcome to her…welcome to put up with her pouts and her
tantrums…to run his fingers through that gorgeous hair, kiss those pouting pink
lips, run his hands over that delectable body…

Damn! Maybe he should just forget about the reward and keep
her for himself. He closed his eyes, imagining the two of them living on some
peaceful planet raising blue corn and silver-haired kids.

Muttering an oath, he made his way to the back cabin. He
wasn’t a farmer, he was a fighter pilot with a score to settle, and he damn
well meant to settle it. Drade had not seen the last of him, that was for damn
sure.

* * * * *

Ashlynne woke with a start, her heart pounding as she
glanced around the room. With a sigh, she realized it had all been a dream. A
nightmare, really. As bad as reality was, her dream had been far worse. She had
been Falkon’s slave, had felt the weight of his collar around her throat, been
subject to his every whim as he dragged her from one end of the galaxy to the
other. He had used her and humiliated her in every way possible, determined to
pay her back in kind for every hurt and humiliation he had endured.

Her stomach clenched, rumbling with hunger. Sitting up, she
slid her legs over the edge of the bed. Was he awake?

Rising, she went to the door and pressed her ear to the
panel. If he was still asleep, she might be able to get to the galley, grab
something to eat, and return to the safety of her room without him knowing.

She listened for several moments, but heard nothing. Taking
a deep breath, she unlocked the door and peered up and down the companionway.
All was still and quiet.

She eased the door open a little further, every muscle tense
as she stepped into the narrow corridor and tiptoed toward the galley.

She was reading the menu when she sensed him behind her.

“Morning, princess,” he drawled.

She turned slowly to face him. The first thing she saw was
the controller in his hand.

He grinned at her as he tossed it lightly from hand to hand.
“Look what I found.”

“Give it back to me.” She held out her hand, as if she
expected him to obey. “It’s mine. And so are you.”

He laughed. “Not any more, princess.”

She lowered her arm to her side. She hadn’t really expected
him to obey.

“Get yourself something to eat,” he said, “and then bring me
some ham and scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee, black.”

Before she could voice the protest that rose in her throat,
he stood up and left the galley. “Insufferable man,” she muttered.

She punched her selection into the servidor. A tray slid out
a few minutes later and she carried it to the table and sat down. She ate
slowly, wondering what he would do if she simply refused to do as he asked.

She rose with a sigh, feeling much put upon. What right did
he have to expect her to wait on him? She stared at the servidor and then, with
a grin, she selected another entrée and carried it into the cockpit.

She found Falkon hunched over the console, studying a star
chart.

“Here.” She thrust the tray into his hands.

Falkon stared at the food on the tray. Wheatmeal and
soft-cooked eggs. And a cup of weak black ginger tea. He looked up at her, his
expression grim.

“Anything else I can get for you?” she asked sweetly.

He looked at her a minute, then shook his head. “No, this is
fine.”

He ate it while she watched. It was all she could do not to
laugh as he choked down the bland wheatmeal, grimaced as he swallowed the eggs.
She hadn’t really expected him to eat it. He downed the tea in two gulps.

When he was finished, he handed her the tray, muttered,
“Thanks,” and went back to studying the chart on the screen. Feeling somewhat
guilty for being so spiteful and childish, she carried the tray into the galley
and dropped it in the bin. He had saved her life, gotten them safely away from
Enjine Base Nine. The least she could have done was given him a decent meal.

She stayed in the galley a few minutes, her fingers drumming
on the table top and then, because she was bored and lonely, she went back to
cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

Falkon looked over at her and frowned. “You want something?”

Ashlynne shook her head.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, pointing at the bruise on her
cheek.

“A little.” She pointed at the scratches on his cheek. “Does
that?”

“I’ve cut myself worse shaving,” His fingers caressed the
bruise. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.

“Me, too.”

His gaze met hers and she felt suddenly like smiling without
knowing why.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Just looking.” He tapped the screen. “We’re here.” He
dragged his finger across the map. “Trellis…” He looked up and met her gaze.
“And your fiancé, are here.”

Trellis. It was depicted as a large shimmering orange planet
on the star chart. Her gaze moved over the chart. Daccar was a small blue
planet; Tierde was a rich dark green. Tierde. She wondered if she would ever
see her homeland again.

“Tell me about him,” Falkon said.

“Niklaus?”

Falkon nodded.

Ashlynne lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “He is his
father’s only son. He has two sisters, both of whom are older and married. He
graduated in the top five percent of his class. He has been running the family
business for the past two years, and will eventually take over full control.”

Falkon grunted softly as she related facts, nothing but
facts. There was no affection in her voice, none of the glow or sparkle a woman
in love should reflect.

“Are you in love with him?”

“No. How could I be? We’ve never met.”

“Never?”

She shook her head. “I was supposed to go to Arkata this
summer to meet him. We were going to be formally engaged at that time, and set
a date for the wedding.”

“Why would you want to marry a man you’ve never met?”

“Our parents arranged it, of course,” she replied. “Isn’t
that how things are done on Daccar?”

Falkon shook his head. “No.” He thought of Maiya, of the
first time he had seen her. It had been at a dance his last year at the
Academy. Maiya had been dancing with Drade, laughing at something he said. One
look, and Falkon had known she would be his. He had cut in on Drade, and spent
the rest of the night with Maiya. He had wooed her with the same
single-mindedness he fought a battle, refusing to consider defeat. They had
been married a week later. And a week after that, he had left her the first time.
They had been married for five years and in all that time, she had never
complained of the long separations. She had maintained their home, made him
welcome when he returned, put up a brave front when another war took him away.
Maiya…

“Falkon?”

He looked up, seeming startled to find her there. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

Ashlynne sat back in the chair and looked out the window of
the cockpit. Whatever he’d been thinking of, it had not been a happy thought.
She felt a twinge of regret that he wouldn’t confide in her, and then wondered
why she cared. All she wanted was to go to Trellis and get on with her life.

“How soon are we leaving here?” she asked.

“A day or two.”

“Why can’t we leave now?”

“I need some down time.”

“Down time?”

“R and R. You know, rest?” He laughed softly. “Maybe you
don’t know. When have you ever worked?”

“It’s not my fault your life has been so horrible,” she
retorted.

“No, I guess not.”

She glared at him. “You’re probably glad all this happened,
aren’t you? Glad that the mine was destroyed, that my parents were murdered…”

“Ashlynne.”

“Everything I ever knew is gone.” She looked at him, her
eyes filling with tears. “But you don’t care, do you? You don’t care about
anything but yourself!”

Jumping up, she ran out of the cockpit. A moment later, a
light flickered on the control panel, indicating that she had opened the hatch.

Falkon swore. Surely she wouldn’t be foolish enough to go
outside alone. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he saw her walking into
the jungle, following the route they had taken the day before. He knew somehow
that she was going to look for the unicorn. He checked the exterior temperature
gauge. At least she had a good day for it, he mused, warm and clear.

Ashlynne pushed her way through the jungle, her vision
blurred by her tears. And to think she was starting to like him! She must have
been out of her mind. He was nothing but a coarse, crass, vulgar man who didn’t
care about anything or anyone but himself. How had she ever thought otherwise?

Blinking back her tears, she walked toward the sound of the
waterfall. There had been a break in the foliage yesterday. She stopped and
looked around. Where had it been?

She ducked under a tree branch, pushed through the greenery,
and found herself at the edge of the river. The tranquil water shimmered with
all the colors of the rainbow.

Dropping to her knees, she put her hand in the water. It was
warm to the touch, soothing, inviting. A nice soothing soak was just what she
needed.

After a quick look around, she undressed and slid into the
water, sighing as it enveloped her. It was effervescent, she thought, almost
alive, as if dozens of tiny fingers were running over her skin, soothing away
her fears, easing her tension.

She waded deeper, enchanted by the feel of the frothy water
on her skin.

Time lost all meaning as she floated there, her eyes closed,
her mind empty of everything except the touch of the water and the warmth of
the sun on her face.

Peace. Contentment. A stillness broken only by the chirping
of a bird…and… A loud splash.

Ashlynne’s eyes flew open, her first thought that Falkon had
followed her. But it wasn’t Falkon. It was a very large cat-like creature with
thick brown and black striped fur and large slanted yellow eyes, and it was
swimming rapidly toward her from the opposite bank.

With a cry, she scrambled out of the water, gasping in pain
as her toe struck a rock. She glanced over her shoulder. The cat was almost to
the shore now.