“No!” Nicoli had just died. She couldn't do it tonight.
“Okay, tomorrow then. The sooner we do it, An'jel, the safer you’ll be.” He took her hand in his. "Even now, your grandfather is arranging your marriage."
Angel knew he was right. "Okay, we can do it tonight.”
He stood, pulling her to her feet. “If you change your mind, I'll understand, but if you still want to go through with this plan, then come to my room tonight after the suns have set.” She nodded. "Everything will work out fine. You’ll see.” He leaned over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.
Angel mentally shied away from the contact. It didn’t feel right. Maybe it never would.
She continued to sit in the maze long after he left. She thought about everything that had happened and about what she was going to do. There were so many reasons not to marry Rianol, not the least of which was she didn't love him. The chance to sabotage her grandfather's plan and perhaps bring peace and happiness to the people of Scyphor, however, was too important.
Finally, when her stomach started growling, she wandered back to the kitchen. Maybe now that she had a plan of action, her stomach would settle down and she could eat.
It was after the midday meal and the kitchen was empty. Preparations for the evening meal wouldn’t begin for another hour or so. Angel walked in, glad to have the place to herself. She gathered the makings for an old-fashioned sandwich and was cutting the bread when her grandfather walked in.
“What are you doing here?” She muttered.
“I was looking for you.” He walked to the far side of the table and sat down facing her. “I thought you would have left by now. Run away.”
“Well I didn’t.” She set the bread aside for later and picked up the meat, placing it on the cutting board where she began cutting it. “Would you mind telling me why you killed my husband?”
“I didn’t. The fight was fair.”
“Bullshit.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
She shook her head, feeling defeated. “Why were you so against Nicoli? He would have made a great leader. He wasn’t afraid to stand up and do what was right. Did you feel threatened?”
“Victor issued
The Challenge,
not I.”
“Don’t.” Angel stabbed the knife into the cutting board. “Don’t even pretend you had no control over what happened. You and I both know the truth. You didn’t want Nicoli as your successor because he was better than you. A better leader. A better man. A better everything.”
“You shouldn’t speak to me with such disrespect,” the High Counsel warned. “I am still the ruler of this House. And your grandfather.”
“You have to
earn
respect.” She slapped pieces of meat onto her bread. When her sandwich was done, she looked up to find her grandfather studying her.
“I’m dying,” he said, sounding truly old and sick.
She sighed. “I hope you don't expect me to feel sorry for you.” But she said it without rancor in her tone.
“It’s over. You won.”
“Did I?” She gave a half-laugh. “Somehow I thought winning would feel better.” She picked up her sandwich and walked to the door, stopping when she heard his sigh.
“Victor would have made you the perfect husband and leader. I don’t know that I can find someone that perfect again.”
“Victor wasn’t as perfect as you thought.”
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“He was a Harvester. And he found you, not the other way around. Nicoli wasn’t just protecting me in that fight. He was protecting you and the rest of the planet from the Harvesters. Think about it.” She turned and walked out.
* * * * *
The rest of the day passed slowly, but eventually the two suns set and Angel found herself knocking on Rianol’s door.
“Come in.” Even from the other side of the door, he sounded nervous. “My quarters are not as big as yours,” he apologized after she walked in. “But I think we’ll be comfortable here tonight.”
She stopped in front of the bed. Large enough for at least three people, it had head and footboards made of Coronadian knotty wood.
“We’ll have to share the bed," Rianol said, coming to stand beside her. "In case someone barges in on us or checks the room later. It needs to at least look as if we slept together.”
Angel nodded and took a leisurely stroll about. There wasn’t much to the room. A desk, a couple of chairs and a wet bar in the main room, with a bathroom off to the side. She’d have to talk to Rianol later about separate quarters. For now, she just wanted to get through the night.
“How about a drink?”
“Sure,” Angel answered. “Martian ale?”
Rianol smiled. “One Martian ale coming up.” He washed his hands at the wet bar sink, then poured the neon blue liquid into a glass. She took it from him with a nervous smile. She wasn’t really thirsty, but hoped it would soothe her nerves. She took a couple of sips as she finished circling the room.
It was a short trip, so when she completed her tour, she went over to the desk and sat in one of the chairs beside it. “What do we do now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I guess we could talk.” He picked up the drink he’d poured himself and took a swallow. When he lowered the glass, his hand shook.
“Rianol, are you okay? Don’t tell me I make you nervous,” she joked, looking at him instead of where she was trying to set down her glass. She missed the table and the glass slipped off the edge, onto the floor. The blue liquid spilled everywhere.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She scooted off her chair to stoop by the mess. “Rianol, do you have a towel or something . . . Rianol?”
He stood trembling, mesmerized by the liquid seeping into the carpet. He didn’t seem to hear her when she spoke.
“Rianol?”
“You spilled.” He sounded aghast.
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry, but I’ll clean it up if you’ll toss me a towel.”
“No. I’ll do it,” he snapped. Picking up a rag, he whipped by her and started to dab the liquid from the carpet. “You’ll have to be more careful.” He sounded as if he were speaking through clinched teeth.
“Sorry, Rianol. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
As if realizing how absurd he was acting, Rianol looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I like things clean and neat.”
“I understand,” Angel said, trying to sound as if she really did.
He finished cleaning the floor, then walked back to the wet bar. He washed his hands after throwing the soiled cloth into the trash bin.
“I’ll fix you another drink.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m not really thirsty.”
“I think you should have one anyway. To calm you for the rest of the evening.”
She wanted to protest, but didn’t want to argue with him when he already seemed so upset. “Okay, fine.” She picked up the fallen glass from the floor where he had overlooked it and started to hand it to him.
He had already poured her drink into a new glass and was standing with his back to her. She saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a small vial. She couldn’t see what he was doing with the vial, but knew he was putting some of its contents into her drink. Did she confront him with it? Or pretend she didn’t see and not drink it?
She stood up as he put the vial back into his pocket and turned around. “Rianol, I think maybe we’re rushing things.”
His eyes narrowed and she could almost see the thoughts racing around in his head.
She waved a hand toward the door, trying to act casual. “I’m going back to my room. I need a little more time.” She started for the door.
Rianol set down the glass and started to walk toward her. “I don’t think we should wait.”
“I do. It’s too soon for me.”
Then he was there beside her and before she knew it, he punched her in the jaw and everything grew dark.
Chapter 30
Consciousness, when it came, slammed into her with a force equal to the blow that had knocked her out. She noticed the pain in her jaw, but ignored it. It was her inability to move her arms or legs that had all her attention. She tried to assess her situation without opening her eyes. She was lying on something soft, which she assumed was the bed. Her arms were stretched above her head and metal cuffs around her wrists held her secure. Her legs were shackled as well.
“I know you’re awake, An’jel. I didn’t hit you that hard. Can’t hit anything that hard.” Rianol’s tone sounded bitter.
Angel opened her eyes to see him standing beside the bed, legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.
She had to clear her throat a couple of times before her voice worked. “Why?”
“Haven’t you guessed by now?”
“Are you working for my grandfather?”
He threw his head back and laughed. There was a manic edge to his laughter that she hadn’t noticed before and when he looked at her again, it wasn’t with the eyes of the Rianol she’d come to know. This man was crazy. Or...
“You’re a Harvester.”
“We prefer the term Magdatians, but yes.”
“I, we, thought Victor was the leader.”
At the mention of Victor’s name, Rianol’s eyes grew solemn. “No. Victor was not our leader. I am.”
“Did you kill Herrod?”
“No, Victor did. He saw you two fighting and took advantage of the situation. I believe he hoped to eliminate Colonel Romanof.” Rianol shook his head. “Victor never had the patience to wait and plan things through. Oh well. Victor’s last act of sacrifice proved his worth. With Colonel Romanof out of the way, I can continue as planned.”
“You won’t succeed. I’ll stop you.” Angel stretched her head back, trying to see how her hands were secured. Rianol had locked her into a pair of handcuffs with a special chain that allowed them to be secured to the headboard. She pulled, testing their strength while Rianol stood by and watched without apparent concern that she would free herself.
“Struggle all you want. The more you do, the more the bed will look slept in.” Rianol came forward and ran a finger down her cheek. Then as if the touch of her skin was offensive, he rubbed his fingers together. “After all, tomorrow we’ll want to look convincing.”
“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man--”
“I wouldn’t be so hasty to offer threats.” Rianol shouted over her. “Unless of course you don't care what happens to your mother.”
“What have you done to my mother?”
“Oh, nothing yet. But tomorrow morning, when we make our little announcement, Sorrah will have a tiny hypo in her possession, containing a deadly poison and she'll be sure to stand close to your mother. One wrong word from you and your mother will die. Very painfully, I might add. So, before you do anything rash, you might wish to reconsider. You just buried a husband. Are you so willing to bury your mother as well?”
* * * * *
By morning, Angel was exhausted. Between her discomfort from being chained to the bed and her fear of what Rianol might do should she fall asleep, Angel had forced herself to stay awake all night. When Rianol finally released her, Angel felt too stiff and too tired to do more than glare at him.
“Get undressed,” he ordered.
Angel rubbed her wrists, trying to work circulation back into her arms. “Why?” As she watched, he stripped off his shirt.
“We’re about to have company.” He smiled at her. “Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you. You’re not my type.”
“Why’s that? Too independent? Too Coronadian?”
“No. Too female.”
Angel gaped at him. “Victor was your lover.”
“Very astute of you. Now take off your clothes or dear old mom gets a hypo for breakfast.”
Somehow, knowing he had no interest in her sexually made it easier. As Angel did as he ordered, a thought occurred to her. “You poisoned my mother? How?”
Rianol spared her a quick glance. “Tainted massage oils. Now climb into bed and get under the covers.”
Her tired brain fought against her fatigue, searching for possible ways out of this predicament. Finding none, she followed his instructions, pulling the covers up to her chin in an effort to cover her nudity. As she did, she cast a glance at Rianol. She hadn’t realized how thin and frail he was beneath his clothes. As he walked to the bed, she noticed the slight twist of his right foot.
Perhaps feeling her eyes on him, Rianol glowered at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. I find this decrepit body as disgusting as you do. And thanks to your and Romanof’s efforts, it will be a while longer before I have the new transfer unit up and operational.”