The Captive (20 page)

“Next time you want to ride, I’ll go with you,” Niklaus
said, taking her by the arm. He looked at Falkon. “Be sure you cool the horses
out properly and give them a good rub down.”

Falkon nodded. Jaw clenched, he watched Hassrick lead
Ashlynne away.

Falkon paced the floor of his hut, his mood bleak. Six and a
half weeks had passed since they arrived in Arkata. He had spent the days
working in the barn, mucking stalls, grooming the horses, cleaning tack. When
he wasn’t in the barn, he was sent to work in the fields with the other slaves.
Keeping the grounds looking the way the Hassrick’s wanted required constant
care. It was work that could have been done by androids, but androids were more
expensive than slaves. Falkon didn’t think the cost had anything to do with the
reason Hassrick kept slaves. The man could afford a hundred androids, a
thousand. It was the feeling of power, of control, that Hassrick enjoyed, the
sense of ownership, of being better than those around him.

He ran his hand over the collar around his neck. Of all the
slaves on the Hassrick estate, he was the only one forced to wear the thick
collar and shackles.

Of course, the Hassrick slaves were well taken care of. They
might not live in luxury, but the huts were kept clean, the food was plentiful
if unimaginative. They were allowed to bathe regularly. It was far better than
working in the mines, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Bars were
bars and prison was prison.

He had spoken to the other slaves, questioning them about
the estate. They had assured him there was no way out save through the front
gate, which could only be opened from inside the house, or with a key code. Not
only were the walls too slick and too high to be scaled, but they were
electrified. The prisoners all had horror stories of slaves who had been killed
trying to go over the wall, or who had been mauled and killed by the dogs that
prowled the outer perimeter, or had been shot by the guards while trying to
escape.

He listened and nodded, but he hadn’t given up, not yet.

Ashlynne came to see him whenever she could sneak away from
the house. She had told him that plans for the wedding were moving forward. Her
dress had arrived, Zahara’s secretary was busily writing out invitations, the
cook was planning the menu. She had told him that the house servants were
working day and night, readying rooms for guests who would be arriving early or
staying late. Her future mother-in-law had decided she hated the furnishings in
the main salon and the room was being completely redecorated. She hadn’t found
the code for the keypad, and didn’t dare ask about it, for fear of arousing
suspicion.

Going to the door, he watched the sun come up. Another day of
enforced labor, of doing another man’s bidding.

Ashlynne came down to the barn just before mid-day.

“I wish to go riding, Number Four,” she said. “Go saddle by
horse.”

“Yes, my lady.”

A short time later, they were riding toward the far end of
the estate. As soon as they were out of sight, Ashlynne reined her horse to a
stop. Falkon rode up beside her. Leaning forward, he kissed her.

“I was hoping you’d come today,” he said.

“I had a feeling you needed to get away for a little while.”

“You got that right. Sometimes it’s all I can do to keep
from laying into Bryson.”

“Falkon, you mustn’t!”

“Dammit, Ashlynne, I’m going slowly insane.”

“I know.” She stroked his cheek. “I know. Please, just be
patient.”

“I’m trying.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, I want
to get as far away from the house as possible.”

They rode for almost an hour. Falkon glanced over at her.
She seemed distracted, and he wondered what was bothering her. It wasn’t like
her to be so quiet for so long.

He reined his horse to a halt in a small glen. Dismounting,
he tethered both horses to a tree, then lifted Ashlynne from the saddle.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. “Nothing.”

“Ashlynne, don’t lie to me.”

“Kiss me, Falkon.” She wrapped her arms around him and drew
his head down. “Kiss me, kiss me.”

She was hiding something from him, and he wanted to know
what it was, but somehow, with her mouth urgent on his and her hands moving
over him, it didn’t seem to matter.

“Falkon, oh, Falkon.” She clung to him, murmuring his name
over and over again, and he surrendered to her touch, letting her do what she
would, not resisting when she pulled him down to the ground. She kissed him
again, and then dissolved into tears.

“Ashlynne, what’s wrong?”

“I…” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Of all the things he had expected her to say, that was the
farthest from his mind. Pregnant!

She was looking up at him, waiting for him to say something,
anything. Pregnant…he thought of Maiya. He hadn’t been there when their
daughter was born. He’d been off fighting a war on Calaas Ten. By the time he
returned home, his daughter had been almost two months old. He hadn’t been
there when she died, either, he thought bitterly. He had been off fighting
another war… He lifted his hand to the collar at his throat

“Falkon?”

He ran his knuckles along her cheek. Where would he be when
this child was born? “Are you sure?”

She pulled away from him and sat up. “I’m sure. You don’t
want it, do you?”

The pain in her voice was like a knife slicing into his
heart. “Ashlynne…” He drew her back into his arms. “It’s not that. It’s just…”
He shook his head.

“Just what? What are we going to do?”

“Beats the hell out of me.” He lifted her into his lap and
wrapped his arms around her.

“I guess it isn’t very good timing, is it?” she asked.

“Not very.” He grinned at her. “But I’ll tell you one thing.
You’re not marrying anybody else.”

She laughed, and then grew sober once again. “I’ll tell
Niklaus tonight that I’ve changed my mind, that I’ve decided to go back to Tierde.”

“And you think he’s gonna let you go, just like that?”

“Why not? Surely he won’t want to marry me if I tell him I
don’t love him.”

“I think you’re overlooking something.”

“What?”

“The mine.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve got a feeling…” He shook his head.
He couldn’t put it into words, but deep in his gut he had a feeling that
Hassrick had been involved in the attack on the mine. But why?

“I’ll tell him tonight.”

* * * * *

Ashlynne stared at Niklaus. “What do you mean, it doesn’t
matter?”

“People rarely marry for love these days, my dear. You know
that. It was your father’s wish that we wed, and we shall be married, as
planned.”

“But I don’t want to marry you. I never did.”

“But you will.”

“No.”

“You’re acting like a child, Ashlynne. We will be married,
as planned. End of discussion.” Pivoting on his heel, he walked toward the
door.

“I’m pregnant.” The words were out before she could call
them back.

He stopped in mid-stride and turned, very slowly, to face
her. “What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re lying.”

Ashlynne shook her head. “No. It’s true.”

“Who’s the father?” he asked, and in the same breath,
answered his own question. “Number Four. It’s him, isn’t it?” he demanded with
a sneer. “That’s why you were so worried about him.”

She didn’t deny it, didn’t care what Niklaus thought of her.
He would have to let her go now.

“You will marry me, Ashlynne, as planned.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“But I am.”

“What will you tell your parents about the baby?”

“I shall say it’s mine.” His smile was cold. “You’re very
beautiful, after all. No one will be surprised to learn that we consummated the
marriage before the vows were said.”

“I won’t be a party to such a despicable lie.”

“The choice is yours, of course. You may leave, if you
wish.”

It was too easy. She stood there, waiting, her stomach in
knots.

“It might interest you to know that there are several people
interested in your Number Four’s whereabouts. The Romarians are searching for
him. One of their commanders, Drade, I believe his name is, seems very anxious
to find him.” Niklaus drew the controller from his pocket and ran his thumb
over the activation panel. “It seems Commander Casman also wants him. Dead or
alive.”

She looked at Niklaus, and felt suddenly sick. “You
wouldn’t.”

“It’s up to you, my dear.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You needn’t worry your pretty little head about that. Shall
I tell my parents the wedding is off?”

She stared at the controller nestled in his hand, the memory
of the last time Niklaus had activated it vivid in her mind. “No.”

Niklaus smiled at her as he slid the controller into the
pocket of his trousers. It was a decidedly triumphant smile.”Now, I think it’s
time you went up to bed, my dear. Mother is planning a party for tomorrow night.
You’ll want to look your best.”

* * * * *

The party was nothing short of a nightmare. Ashlynne stood
beside Niklaus, a fake smile on her face as she greeted their guests, but all
she could think of was Falkon. She had gone to the barn that afternoon, but he
hadn’t been there. She had gone to his hut, her stomach churning with fear when
she saw that it was empty. She had questioned Bryson, but he claimed he didn’t
know Falkon’s whereabouts. The giant, Moldaur, also claimed ignorance. At last,
in desperation, she had gone to Niklaus, who had assured her that Falkon was in
no danger, so long as she did as she was told. She’d had no choice but to
believe him.

She sat across from Niklaus at dinner, smiling and making
polite conversation with the people seated on either side of her, and all the
while she had been heartsick. Where was Falkon?

There was dancing after dinner. Niklaus claimed the first
one, his father the second. Knowing Falkon’s fate rested on her, Ashlynne
played her part well. She laughed and smiled and pretended to be the happiest
woman in the galaxy, and all the while her stomach was churning and her heart
was sick with worry.

When Niklaus claimed her for another dance, she pleaded a
headache and asked to go outside. As soon as they were alone, she turned on
him. “Where is he? I won’t go on with this charade for another minute until I
know he’s all right.”

Niklaus made a
tsking
sound. “You really care for
him, don’t you? How unfortunate. What would your father think, I wonder, if he
knew.”

“I want to see Falkon. Now.”

“Ah, so he has a name, does he.”

“Now, Niklaus.”

“Very well.” He went to speak to his mother, then motioned
for Ashlynne to follow him.

Heart pounding, she followed Niklaus down three flights of
narrow, winding stairs. The air grew colder as they descended. At each landing,
lights came on automatically, illuminating their way.

She was shivering when Niklaus paused before a stout wooden
door. He punched the code into the keypad and the door swung open. A light came
on inside the room as they crossed the threshold.

Ashlynne glanced around, her apprehension growing. The floor
was made of stone, the walls were made of rock, cold and gray and damp. “What
is this place?”

“It was a prison, in days long past.”

“A prison?”

“Yes. My great-great-grandfather built the house on top of
it. This way, my dear.”

He led her down a narrow corridor and made a sharp right
turn.

Ashlynne sucked in a deep breath. A large room opened off
the corridor. Small, iron-barred cells lined both sides of the room. All were
empty save one.

“Falkon.” She breathed his name as he rose from the floor,
blinking against the light.

“You see,” Niklaus said. “He is unharmed, for the moment.”

“What do you mean, for the moment?” she asked, though she
knew the answer.

“I mean his continued good health depends entirely on you.”
Niklaus withdrew the controller from his pocket and activated it with a flick
of his thumb.

Ashlynne cried out as Falkon dropped to the cold stone
floor, his body convulsing violently. And when the tremors had almost ceased,
Niklaus hit the controller again.

“Stop it!” She whirled around to face Niklaus. “Stop it!
I’ll do anything you want! Anything, I swear it. Only please stop.”

Niklaus nodded, his expression smug. “Yes, I thought you
would see things my way.”

Ashlynne ran toward the cell. “Falkon. Falkon.” Reaching
through the bars, she clutched his shoulder. She could feel the tremors
coursing through him. She gasped as a sharp pain exploded in her hand and
sizzled up her arm. With an effort, Falkon rolled away from her, breaking her
grip on his shoulder.

Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, the pain
in her own hand forgotten as she watched him writhing on the ground. How did he
endure it? Her hand and arm still tingled from where she had touched him. She
couldn’t imagine how painful it must be for him.

A low moan escaped his lips as the controller’s effects
ended. White faced and trembling, he grabbed hold of the bars and pulled
himself to his feet.

Ashlynne stood up, her eyes filled with sympathy. And love.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”

“Not…your fault.” He took a deep breath. “Are you all
right?”

She nodded.

Niklaus came up behind her. “It’s time to go.”

“No!”

“We have guests, my dear, remember?”

“Please let me stay. Just a few more minutes.”

“No.”

She turned to face him. “Please, Niklaus. Give us a few
minutes alone.” He was going to refuse. She saw it in his eyes. “I’ll beg if I
have to.” Dropping to her knees, she clasped his hand in both of hers.
“Please?”

He jerked his hand from hers, his expression one of disgust.
“Very well. Five minutes should be time enough to say goodbye. I’ll wait by the
door.”

“Thank you.”