Van Laven Chronicles (17 page)

CHAPTER 29

The day after Duke Tekulve’s startling revelation, several key parties were assembled through eye-com conferencing to discuss how best to eradicate their mutual problem. Comron glanced at the quartered holographic screen. Telkuve Overcrom telecommunicated from Novoxos and represented Thalonius’ interest. Duke Fera of Relledon was still hidden away in fear of Larrs, but had managed to join the call from an undisclosed location. The stout, pointy-bearded Ilian Brigune, Duke of Wostfall, joined from his home, seeking to capitalize on the opportunity to earn the good graces of Thalonius and to thwart Bastionli’s master scheme.

Several of the other houses, major and minor, gave their tacit approval to the plans to keep Bastionli off the throne, though they dared not show their faces at this meeting. Not only did they fear the notion of such a cunning and manipulative man wielding the power of the imperial throne, a cursory glance at Vaush’s record showed that she would neither be a friend to the establishment, nor would she overturn the Murkudahl Edict as Thalonius certainly would have. Whatever the cost, she had to be eliminated, and they, for their part, would gladly turn a blind eye to her demise.

The one member of the party who chose to attend in person was the fair-haired Count Recaban of Baynehall. He was the only member who had purchased his title through a rather dubious marriage to a large, hard-faced heiress, Countessa Dorotha. Incidently, Dorotha had died shortly after their wedding.

Crausin opened the meeting. “We all know why we are here and more importantly, why we’ve asked Count Recaban to join us.”

“My lords,” Recaban said with a nod.

Their mouths clamped shut, refusing to acknowledge him as their equal.

“We need to move quickly and Recaban is the only one who has resources in place to handle an operation of this scope and magnitude,” Crausin said, reminding them to climb off their high horses long enough to conduct business expeditiously.

Comron stared at Recaban. He was the royalty of the crime world, who had climbed and scraped his way to the top of the murderous, backstabbing heap. But what the notorious crime lord truly desired was the acceptance into the upper echelons of society: the aristocracy. Thus far, despite his marriage and acquired title, all doors into good society had been summarily closed to him.

Until now.             

Recaban cleared his throat. “The uprisings on Ti-Laros have increased exponentially and have even moved into the capital city. The rebels’ rhetoric and action grow bolder with each passing day. We’ll take advantage of the turmoil.” He paused and looked at each of the noblemen in turn. “We’ll hit Gosselton Heights, the Duke’s residence itself, and blame the rebel forces.”

“Are you mad?” Brigune said. “This is far too bold a plan.”

Crausin held up a silencing hand. “You have access to their weaponry? You must use the same mode of operation.”

“Who do you think supplies their weapons?” Recaban said smugly, clasping his hands over his flat stomach.

“No one will believe that the rebels would be so brazen as to attack the Duke’s heavily guarded residence,” Fera chimed in. “Perhaps their ground cars would be a better target.”

“And how often does Vaush travel with the Duke in his ground car?” Recaban inquired. “We must make it appear that they were gunning for the Duke. Vaush must merely be a casualty of the attack.”

Comron’s white knuckled grip on the chair bespoke his anger at Recaban’s casual manner in discussing Vaush’s death. He glanced at Crausin, aching to tell him Larrs was the only threat and that eliminating him alone would solve all of their problems. But the moment he spoke in Vaush’s defense, his father would immediately sense his strong feelings for her and launch a personal mission to destroy her.

“How soon can you arrange the attack?” Telkuve asked. Someone off to the side handed him a report. “We have reason to believe that Larrs intends to present the girl to Novoxos in a matter of days.”

“I have already moved most of the critical pieces into place,” Recaban answered. “We’ll be ready to strike in five days’ time.”

“So quickly?” Brigune exclaimed. “You’re bound to botch things up, going at it in such a rushed manner.” As the spokesman for the silent majority of nobles, Brigune was there to assure that the plan was well orchestrated, with no undue risks or ugly loose ends.

“This isn’t my first time at the ball, Lord Brigune,” Recaban replied. “I know precisely what I’m doing.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Crausin asked, studying the devious little man. “Give us the details.”

“Vaush typically spends a great deal of time abroad, but ever since the incident on Patheis, her father has, understandably, kept her close,” Recaban said. “The Duke has gathered his entire household under his roof for some special occasion so they’ll likely be present. We’ll transport the explosives into Gosselton Heights aboard the late evening delivery truck. It will be packed with enough fire power to blow Gosselton Heights clean off the map. Poof!” He spread his fingers like a starburst. “All of your problems gone.”

“And all fingers will point to house Van Laven as the culprit,” Crausin said with dissatisfaction.

“No,” said Recaban. “All the explosives have been hijacked from the rebels, along with one of their leaders, whose remains will be found in the driver’s seat of the delivery truck.”

“The rebels will take the fall!” Lord Fera clapped his hands.

“Such a sharp fellow,” Recaban said. “Did you deduce that all on your own?”

“You’re absolutely certain the girl will be present?” Telkuve pressed. “If we miss her and hit Larrs, we’ll lose our motive for any additional attempts.”

“She’s been home every night since returning from Patheis, and according to her cyber daybook, she has no plans to be elsewhere,” Recaban answered with hint of irritation.

“Still we must be certain, or this is all for naught,” Crausin said.

“I’ll see to it personally.” Recaban gave them a magnanimous smile that failed to reach his eyes. “The device will not be detonated unless I confirm she is present.”

“Excellent,” Telkuve said. “I’ll inform the Supreme Prince, Thalonius.”

Crausin nodded to Comron and gripped his shoulder reassuringly. Comron heard the message, ‘fear not, all will be sorted soon’.

Comron’s head was splitting with pain.

How could this be happening? He had sworn he would never let Crausin harm her, and now he had sat there, helpless, listening to them plan her murder. If he managed to get a word of warning to Vaush, Larrs would learn of it and immediately force her to marry Skarus before rushing her off to Novoxos, permanently barring him from seeing Vaush as they awaited Nethic’s fall!

“Of course,” Recaban said in an oily tone, “there is the matter of my fee.”

Crausin’s lips drew into a firm line. “How much?”

“Twenty-five million credits.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Fera spoke too quickly, then cowered as all eyes turned sharply toward him.

“That is, twenty-five million credits from each of you present,” Recaban added. Gone was his cavalier smile.

“The whole operation couldn’t possibly cost more than a million!” Crausin snapped.

“Perhaps for the material and labor—it’s the facilitation fee that’s going to cost you.” he glared at Crausin and then Telkuve. “Unless one of you cares to pop over to Ti-Laros to handle this for himself. Any takers? No? That’s what I thought.”

“You made your point, Recaban,” Telkuve snarled. “We agree to your terms.”

Recaban tapped at his comp-pad. “I have just sent you all the wiring instructions. Once I see the funds in my account, I’ll know you’ve accepted my terms.”

“And what guarantee do we have that you won’t abscond with the funds and leave us flat?” Lord Brigune said.

Recaban laughed genuinely. “And stiff you good men, not to mention Supreme Prince Thalonius? Really, Lord Brigune, I thought you were smarter than that.”

Brigune glowered at Recaban but remained silent.

“The funds will be transferred within the hour,” Telkuve said, glancing around at the others. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” they said in unison.

“Will you produce a body?” Telkuve inquired. “Thalonius wants to ensure we don’t have a repeat of the debacle from twenty-four years ago.”

Recaban inclined his head. “Given the levels of intense heat the explosives will generate, I seriously doubt there will be a body left to produce. But rest assured the forensic examination will yield the necessary proof. After tomorrow evening, Vaush Bastionli,” he wagged his head, “Hrollaugr will be wiped from existence.”

Crausin turned to Comron with a look of bewilderment. Comron quickly suppressed the harrowing wailing inside him and was thankful when Recaban spoke up.

“There is one more thing, gentlemen.”

Comron suspected this “one” thing would be the perfect distraction for Crausin’s probing his mind.

“And I trust that you will convey this message to His Excellency,” Recaban said to Telkuve. “In exchange for my services, you’ll each extend an invitation to me, as an honored guest, to attend the two major functions you’ll be hosting this year.” He ignored the collective gasp that escaped them and spoke over the round of objections. “From you, Telkuve, I expect an invitation to the annual Winter Ball and Grand Art Gala your lovely wife throws each year.”

“You go too far!” Telkuve said, his face beet red.

“And from you, Crausin,” Recaban said, adding insult by calling them by their given names. “An invitation to the Banking Summit and to the Summer Festival Games.”

“Are you completely mad?” Crausin asked. To hand over a small fortune to Recaban was one thing, but to be seen with him in public, in good society, was a different matter altogether.

“This is beyond the pale, Recaban. We’ll pay your fee plus a thirty percent bonus upon completion,” Telkuve said, his tone indignant. “But under no circumstances will there be any invitations extended to you.”

Comron held his breath, fervently hoping that negotiations would disintegrate from this point. This was the infamous crime lord’s true price: permission to ride their coattails into proper society.

“The invitations are non-negotiable, my lords,” Recaban said sternly.

“It is completely out of the question!” Brigune protested. “Everyone knows what you are. Our guests would turn their backs and flee the moment they caught sight of you.”

Recaban rose to his feet with face flushed. “Then it seems we have wasted each other’s time. You bloody hypocrites!” He shoved aside his chair and started from the room.

“Recaban! His Excellency the Supreme Prince Thalonius extends his invitation to you,” Telkuve announced. His jaw twitched and he gritted his teeth. “As do I.”

Crausin closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. “God’s below.”

“I must have an invitation from all of you,” Recaban said, staring down at Crausin.

Comron shook his head as his father glanced at him.

“You have mine,” Fera piped up.

“And mine,” Brigune said begrudgingly.

All eyes turned to Crausin. Comron silently pleaded with him to refuse, but would not open a telepathic link lest Crausin see too much.

Crausin glared at Recaban. “You have ours as well.”

Vaush, your enemies are too powerful, they mean to kill you, my love.

The pain weighed so heavily upon him, he could barely breathe. Tears burned his eyes as he choked back the flood of emotion. She was standing in the path of a thundering behemoth, waiting to be struck down into oblivion and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

He felt Crausin’s mental phasing, seeking the cause of Comron’s deep distress. Comron turned to him, the look of anguish in his eyes seemed to be an accusation.

Leaning over, Crausin whispered, “We sully ourselves so that Nethic survives.”

Comron withdrew from him, wanting to shout at them to burn Larrs to the ground but for Frithe’s sake, leave Vaush alone. Without Larrs, she could be reasoned with and a fair compromise could be reached. If only they would allow her a chance to live, if only someone would step in intervene on her behalf…the way she had for him when he lay dying on the transport floor.

Suddenly, it became clear exactly what he needed to do.

CHAPTER 30

The stars streaked by the view screen as Vaush settled in for the voyage. When she received word that Comron had found a way to break his betrothal and that she was to join him on Patheis, a mix of fear and euphoria filled her. Despite all the looming obstacles she’d imagined, their love had survived beyond Patheis and in less than an hour, they would be together again.

She reclined in the cockpit and breathed deeply.

Comron…

How was it that after only five wondrous days, Comron had inexplicably come to feel like a home to her, the place where she belonged. Thoughts of him consumed her, creeping into her every waking moment. Regardless of how she attempted to bridle her emotions, they flooded in sweeping away all rational thought and reasoning.

She smiled to herself and whispered, “I desire you, Lord Comron Van Laven. No one else will do.”

She reclined back in her seat, ready to surrender to the memory of his ardent passion, the intensity of his brilliant green eyes and the taste of his devouring kisses.

The com signal sounded drawing her attention. She glanced at the com screen and sighed heavily.

“Laney, you’re looking well,” Vaush said nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just given her guard the slip and left them with no idea as to her whereabouts. “Though I’m guessing you won’t be cleared for duty for another week.”

“And you were counting on that, weren’t you?” said the captain of her guard, standing there in a blue hospital robe. “Where are you, Your Grace? Your father will have us flayed if he finds out we’ve lost you.”

“I’m fine and will be back in two days, Father need never know.”

“You think this is some sort of a game, don’t you?” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation. “You ditched your guard detail. Why?”

“Calm yourself, Laney. I just needed a couple of days to myself.”

“You know your father’s orders
, especially
after Patheis. You don’t take a shite without us being there to wipe your ass.”

“Two days is all I ask.”

“Not if your father learns of it.”

Vaush smirked. “But then you’d have to admit to him that you lost me.”

“
I
wasn’t on duty.”

“Do you think that will matter to my father?”

“You’d put my life in jeopardy over…over what exactly?”

“Such a flare for the dramatic. Nobody’s life is in jeopardy as long as you keep this a secret, just like you’ve kept all of our unauthorized adventures a secret.”

“
Our
being the operative word, Vaush,” she said, calling her by given name as an indication that she was appealing to their longtime friendship. “You’ve never pulled anything like this. What’s gotten into you?”

“I promise, I’ll explain when I return.”

“Sometimes it’s like you never really returned from Patheis. You told me I was like a sister to you, so talk to me like one. What’s really going on here?”

The soft touch wasn’t Laney’s style, Vaush knew she was buying time…time enough to trace her location.

“Does this, by any chance, involve some guy?” Laney inquired.

Vaush’s cheeks burned. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Not so absurd considering you spent the morning at the spa getting primped, buffed and polished, never mind the way you’re dressed like you’re hoping to knock some poor bloke on his ass. Damn it, Vaush, you know that we can be discreet. There was no need to run off like that.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’m doing this for your own protection. Think… plausible deniability.”

“Deniability? Kraiten in the sea, Vaush Bastionli, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“I’m going to disconnect now before you get that lock on me. I’ll see you in two days, promise.

“Vaush, don’t you do it!”

“Try to get some rest, Laney.” She cut off the channel before she could say another word. Alone in the cockpit of the planetary cruiser, she tried to ignore the sense of betrayal gnawing at her. While it was true that leaving Laney in the dark would prevent her from having to admit having knowledge of Vaush’s whereabouts, she had a stronger motive for hiding the truth.

I’m not ready for you to look upon me as a despicable traitor.

What would Laney’s loyalties dictate under these circumstances? Eventually Laney would feel compelled by duty to report her treason to Larrs.

She dropped her head into her hands and wondered what she was doing. But there was no turning back now, not after Comron had called off his betrothal. He’d kept his word, how could she do any less?

The wheels had been set into motion. She would see her Nethicaen prince one more time— what ever happened beyond that, only heaven knew…