Van Laven Chronicles (23 page)

CHAPTER 42

At hearing the momentous news that a space transport was descending upon the grounds of Ketherton Sound, Vaush convinced Henrik that it had to be his lordship returning and that the order to keep them locked inside had been lifted.             

She raced out into the clearing and across the field, fully expecting Comron to come running out to greet her. Gone was the anger and resentment over being confined here. Her only desire now was to throw her arms around him and inquire as to his meeting with Crausin. She hoped against all odds that his early return boded well for their future.

When she came closer, she wondered why Comron hadn’t come out to greet her and why he travelled in a military vessel. She stopped in her tracks. Had she been too presumptuous in assuming it was Comron? What if things had gone just as poorly as she had feared and Crausin had sent his men to capture the Ti-Larosian who dared to seduce his son?

No, that wasn’t likely either considering no armed guards came out to apprehend her. Bewildered, she stood at the bottom of the landing stairs and gazed at the opening. “Comron?”

When no answer came, she trotted up the stairs and into the vessel. It was a stark, utilitarian vessel of gray and black. It had lots of equipment, but little in the way of comfort, quite the opposite of Comron’s luxurious personal cruiser that they’d initially arrived in.

Heading toward the cockpit, she was stunned to find the occupant lying on the floor next to pilot’s seat wearing soiled clothing. “Comron?” She dropped to his side and turned him over. “Comron!” she screamed at the sight. He’d been severely beaten. His face was so swollen, she wouldn’t have recognized him had he not been wearing his oath medallion and signet ring. His whole body was marked by deep lacerations and dark bruises. A film of dried blood and caked dirt covered him.

“Comron!” She felt for a pulse, it was so faint she feared that he would die in her arms. “Help! Henrik, Frieda, help me!”

Just then she heard someone coming through the doorway.

“M’lady, what is—”

“Henrik, listen to me. We need a physician immediately. His lordship is very badly injured. Make haste!”

Getting a glimpse of Comron, Henrik didn’t hesitate. “Yes, m’Lady.”

“Send for Freida too!” she added, but before he could reply, the young woman popped her head through.

“I’m here, m’Lady.” Frieda squeezed in beside Vaush and gasped, “Gods be merciful, death’s at his door! Does he breathe?”

“Yes, but not for much longer if we don’t get him some help,” Vaush said in her grief. “Do you have any type of medical devices around, any flesh menders?”

Frieda’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Sorry, I don’t know of any such fancy things. But Monne Beichmore has some knowledge of green garden healin’ herbs. I can fetch her.”

“Hurry, he’s very badly off.”

“Yes, m’Lady.” Frieda was already on her feet and heading for the door.

Vaush brushed the matted hair from Comron’s brow and anger filled her breast. Had Crausin meant to kill his son? The beating was so savage and for Comron to be left in this state without receiving any medical attention was barbaric. Surely, he intended Comron to die.

“Oh, my darling,” she cried, “look what he’s done to you.” She tenderly kissed his brow and held him close. “Just hold on, love. I’m going to take care of you.”

***

With Comron washed clean and resting in a warm bed, Vaush contented herself to allow Monne Beichmore to tend to his wounds with her healing herbs while they awaited old Doctor Breckmein.

Vaush couldn’t help wondering if word had reached Ti-Laros by now. With the Duke of Nethic in a mad rage, surely he’d wasted no time informing Larrs of his daughter’s egregious conduct. Her guilt grew more profound. She owed her family some type of explanation for her seemingly callous and treasonous behavior. She had to make them understand that they were very much in love and…

She sighed heavily. Comron was right, the wound was far too fresh for them to see their relationship in any kind of favorable light. For the near future, she was a despicable traitor who had sold herself cheap to Van Laven wolves.

She would endure that for the joy of being with Comron, but she couldn’t bear to have Laney think that of her a moment longer. She’d given her word to Comron that she would not communicate with anyone until he returned…She glanced at him and chewed her lip as she considered her predicament.

Technically, I’ve kept my word.

If she scrambled the communication signal, as Laney had taught her to, no one could triangulate their position. She’d be brief and wouldn’t disclose their location.

She rose from Comron’s bedside. “Monne Biechmore, I will return in one quarter of an hour,” she said to the woman as she applied more elixir to Comron’s wounds.

“Can I be of help, m’Lady?” Frieda asked, rising with Vaush.

“Stay here and assist Monne Beichmore. I won’t be but a moment,” Vaush said tersely, wanting no witnesses to her communication. She slipped out of the room, down the stairs and was soon racing across the rocky field where the Nethicaen transport waited.

She climbed into the cockpit, took a minute to familiarize herself with the controls before opening a scrambled communication signal to Laney’s personal com device.

Laney’s face appeared on the view screen, her skin was flush, perspiration dotted her forehead and her auburn hair was pulled back into her signature ponytail. She was moving on foot through some heavily wooded area.

“Damn you, Vaush! Delia, Shian, and Kep are all dead, half your personal guard is dead or does that even matter to you anymore?”

“What are you talking about,” Vaush gasped in horror. “What happened?”

“Your father had them executed for gross dereliction of duty! See what your little harmless stunt has cost them.”

“No, please, Laney,” Vaush implored, “I can’t believe he’d do that.”

“I’d be dead too if I hadn’t been on medical leave at the time and been tipped off to leave Gosselton Heights.” She jumped over some object and was jogging now. “But holy shite, I had no idea he’d turn completely psychotic over your disappearance. He killed them, Vaush, he bleedin’ killed them!”

“Seven hells, I’m so sorry, I never thought…damn it!” she said infuriated about all she hadn’t thought about when embarking on the relationship with Comron.

“And that’s not all Vaush. Kraiten in the sea, I don’t know what the hell is going on but your father just mobilized two thirds of the Ti-Larosian fleet and is attacking Nethic.”

Vaush’s head began to throb.
Dear God, Comron, what have we done!

“What in heaven’s name for?” She had to find out how much Laney already knew.

“Bloody hell if I know,” she glanced over her shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep myself alive. Larrs wants your whole guard dead.”

“Look, Laney, you get somewhere safe and lay low until I can send help.”

“What kind of help?” Laney snapped, hunkering down. “I’m being hunted by the Ti-Larosian authorities. There’s no one you can call to help me. I’m fucked proper.”

“I’ll think of something,” but even as Vaush said the words she knew Laney was right. Who could she turn to? Her father’s men were the ones hunting Laney and Comron’s father had nearly beaten him to death for having anything to do with Ti-Laros.

“I hope whatever you had to go do was worth it,” she said in cold biting tone.

Vaush dropped her head in her hands and pressed her fingers to her temples. “This is all my fault, not just my guard, but the war with Nethic.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a little too preoccupied to attend your pity party.” Laney sprung up and was on the move again.

“Laney, you were right all along, this whole thing was over a man. He’s here with me now… ” Vaush closed her eyes and blurted out, “It’s Lord Comron Van Laven.”

The news brought Laney to a dead stop. Her face burned a deeper shade of red as she glared at Vaush. “What the hell did you just say?”

Vaush swallowed in a dry throat. “It was during our time on Patheis, in the midst of our struggle to survive, we fell in love…only I refused to see him unless he called off his betrothal and the only way to—”

“He’s a fucking Nethicaen!” Her face contorted in disgust, “You’re letting Van Laven’s own putrid spawn touch you? What the hell are you thinking, Vaush?”

“Laney, he’s not what—”

“You realize our friends died just so you could bed that rat-faced shite bag!”

Vaush had never seen Laney so livid in her life. It had to be her grief speaking. “I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to them. I just never thought Larrs would do something so heinous.”

“No, no, why would he? It’s not like his daughter got caught with her hands down the pants of a Nethicaen crag. How in the blessed frake did you think this was all going to turn out?” she railed. “And the rank bastard’s probably having a good laugh telling his father what a great lay you were.”

Vaush’s mouth drew into firm line, what she would not tolerate from her subordinates she would humbly suffer from a grieving friend. “I know that you’re very angry with me and you have every right to be. But you couldn’t be more wrong about Comron. He went to his father just this morning to confess
his love
for me and when Crausin heard the news, he went stark raving mad and tried to kill Comron. He barely escaped with his life.”

“Frithe’s bitch! Then both of you are completely bent for thinking you could drop a mill shell like this on them without blowing it all to bits. Thanks to you, our friends are dead and we’ve got a bloody war on our hands!”

“Think about it, Laney. This war doesn’t make sense,” Vaush argued. “So I’m a traitor, I’m Van Laven’s whore, whatever you care to call me. But it doesn’t follow that Larrs should take Ti-Laros to war over my transgression. He’s too shrewd and pragmatic a leader to make such an impulsive, ill-conceived move.”

Laney sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “Who can begin to understand the male ego? Especially when it’s the size of a baggon tanker. I’m just tired and…” she shook her head sharply. “They’re gone, Vaush. He slit their damn throats like they were nothing.”

“Laney, I’m so sorry. I wish I…,” she rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. Wish what? That she’d never met Comron, never saved his life? “Please, just get somewhere safe. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you too.”

Laney’s brown eyes narrowed. “Given the absence of bombardment, I assume you’re not on Nethic with…with
him.
”

“No, we’ve gone into hiding. Comron still hasn’t regained consciousness, but when he comes to, we’ll do whatever we must to put an end to this war.”

“Kraiten in the sea, Vaush, after this you’ll
never
be able to set foot on Ti-Laros again. For that matter, neither will I.”

“I made my choice, but you didn’t deserve any of this. None of you did. I’m going to make this right somehow. And I pray that in time if you can get past your anger toward me you’ll consent to call yourself my friend once more.”

The hard look in Laney’s eyes disheartened Vaush. “Are you planning to keep on with the Van Laven?”

Vaush bit her lip, now was not the time to inform Laney that she was legally bound to House Van Laven. “I love him, Laney.”

Laney rolled her eyes, but her expression softened a degree as she kicked a clump of dirt. “We’ll see where all the pieces fall once this skirmish ends.”

It was the closest her friend would come to admitting that their friendship could endure the crucible. Vaush took courage from this. “Very well…take care of yourself, dear friend.”

Laney gave her an inscrutable look, then blinked off the screen.

CHAPTER 43

The pain jolted Comron from his slumber and his eyes blinked open, to find an elderly man hovering over, pressing down upon his right arm. The smell of eucalyptus and clove filled the air, punctuated by a pungent odor.

“He’s coming to,” said the frizzy, white-haired man.

“Oh, thank heavens,” came the soft familiar voice. He turned to find Vaush smiling down at him. “I was so worried, love.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come from his parched throat.

“Water, please,” Vaush said to Monne Beichmore.

His whole body ached. He could still see the red stripes crisscrossing his chest and shoulders. He groaned when Vaush lifted his head to drink. His mind was quickly clearing, Nethic was under attack, Vaush had yet to learn the truth of her identity, they had to reach Novoxos before the wolves closed in.

Fighting past his pain, he forced himself to sit up on an elbow.

“Careful, my lord, you need your rest,” said the old man, trying to press him back down.

“Vaush, we need to talk,” Comron said, brushing his hand away.

She glanced around at the servants. “Please leave us.”

“My lady, he needs to—”

“I’ll look after him,” Vaush said. “Now go.”

The moment they were gone, Vaush’s voice was strained, “We’ve started a war, Comron. We’ve got to do something to stop it.”

“This war isn’t about us,” he said, sitting up completely. “It’s about you.”

“What? My besmirched honor?” she scoffed. “Thousands of innocent people are going to die. I must speak with my father to end this madness.”

“Not before you hear what I have to tell you.” He took a deep breath and grabbed his ribs in pain.

“Careful, darling. The medical technology here is appalling. We’ll seek proper care the moment we leave this place.”

The frustration and anguish boiled up in him, all the uncertainty and mounting obstacles... “Larrs Bastionli is not your biological father,” he announced.

Her expression registered shock then mild amusement. “What exactly did Monne Beichmore put in those healing pouches?”

“Vaush, this war isn’t being fought over some old vendetta. It’s about the fact that you are Emperor Sorren Hrollaugr’s daughter.”

She looked askance at him. “Comron, you’re obviously not well.” She attempted to feel his brow.

“Listen to me!” he said, grabbing her hand. “Hear the
whole
story and then decide if it’s a fevered delusion.”

She gave him a sad smile and sat next to him. “All right, let’s hear it.”

He wondered if this would be the last time she’d look at him with eyes filled with love and tenderness. No matter, he’d put this off for far too long.

“About twenty-five years ago, a talented linguist by the name of Payce Erlacher found herself in the employ of the Imperial Court as an interpreter. Payce was as beautiful as she was eloquent and charming. It wasn’t long before she captured the eye of Emperor Sorren. He fell so deeply in love with her that when she refused his offer to become a secondary wife, he elevated her to principal wife and consort, making any children she bore him first in line to the imperial throne.

“Needless to say, Calista Nostrom, the Emperor’s former principal wife, hated Payce intensely. Not only had she supplanted Calista’s position as first wife, she also threatened her son, Thalonius’ claim as Sorren’s heir.

“A few months into their marriage, Payce became pregnant with Sorren’s child. This news drove Calista mad and she began plotting to murder Payce before she gave birth. But on the eve of the murder, the plan was uncovered by one of the Emperor’s Generals Elite, who also happened to be Payce’s father. Fearing for his daughter’s life, the general arranged for her to be removed from Novoxos and hidden away until he could be certain her life was no longer in danger.

“Only something went horribly wrong. Her transport was intercepted by a small band of mercenaries. It was widely reported that everyone on board was killed. Upon hearing the news, Sorren had Calista executed.

“It is now evident as to who was really responsible for the attack on Payce’s transport. Somehow, Larrs must have learned of the situation and taken advantage of it. We believe he kidnapped Payce and held her captive until she gave birth. Most likely, he had her murdered to keep his secret hidden while he raised the Emperor’s child as his own. Obviously, that child was you, Vaush.” He inclined his head. “And that is the true reason Larrs has gone to war with Nethic, to win back the
Emperor’s
daughter.”

He watched the varied emotions play across her face – shock, mortification and finally resignation to the truth of it.

“If this is true, it would explain why he had my guards killed…” she whispered and her eyes lifted to his. “I-I need proof, Comron, conclusive proof that my father is a lying, conniving monster. No, I need to hear this from him!”

He gripped her arm. “A blood test will give you all the conclusive proof you need. But you can’t go to Larrs, Vaush. He means to crush Nethic and with you on the throne, he’ll finally have the power to do so.”

“Me on the throne? No, no, no, I don’t want any part of this.” Her hands were shaking when she raked them through her hair. “I feel like I’m in the middle of some horrible nightmare. I…” she looked at him. “I need solid proof if I’m ever going to start making sense of any of this.”

His heart pounded wildly as he watched her. She was still too much in shock to inquire as to how he’d come by this information or for how long he’d known the truth.
I must deliver her to Novoxos before everything unravels
.

“We’ll get you the proof. Please, hand me my clothes,” he said as he tried to climb out of bed to get dressed.

“Com, you’re in no condition to deal with this,” she said, gently urging him back into bed. “I know how to draw my own blood and I can use your ship’s computer to run a match against the imperial medical database.” She rose from the bed and frowned. “I’ve always wondered why an elitist such as Larrs Bastionli would deign to take in his illegitimate child, give her his name and raise her alongside his sanctioned heirs.”

Her fixation on Larrs disturbed him. Would she attempt to contact him once aboard the transport? “Vaush, wait for me.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and wiped Monne Beichmore’s healing patches away.

“What are you doing?” she objected. “I can manage this on my own. Please get back into bed.”

“No, I’m coming with you.” He stood unsteadily, clad only in his underpants. “My clothes, please.” His heart almost stopped as she stared back at him with a look of dismay in her eyes.

“I still can’t believe your father would do something so horrible to you,” she said, gesturing at the hideous scars. “All of that fury and hatred poured out on you in vain if I’m not Bastionli.” She headed toward the wardrobe to retrieve his clothing.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head began to throb. Though lies and deceit had become common place in his business dealings, he couldn’t let it exist between them. If he had any hope of regaining her trust, it was time to completely level with her.

“Larrs will be so disappointed when he discovers that I want nothing to do with his dreams of imperial grandeur,” she said, handing him his clothing. “I really wish you’d get some rest, darling. I can handle this.”

He groaned within at the prospect of destroying her trust and their innocence. We will weather the storm.
Just tell her!

He took a deep breath—

“Besides, you’re not the one who seems to be in need of convincing. It’s as if you already…,” her voice trailed off.

His stomach clenched when he saw the dreaded question in her eyes and the distinct look of shattered faith.

“Vaush, I have been wanting to—”

“When did you learn of this?”

“I was afraid that—”

“When, damn it!”

“About a week ago.”

“A week?” Her eyes widened. “Then you knew when you…” Her brow furrowed and her mouth turned down as if she were about to cry, and suddenly the south wing cellar torture seemed preferable to this moment.

“How could I have been so
stupid
? You weren’t proposing to me, you were proposing to House Hrollaugr.”

“That’s not true.”

“You didn’t tell me all of this before because you wanted to secure your foothold in House Hrollaugr, get your hooks in really deep.”

“No, you know that’s not—”

“What do I know? The man I believed was my father has been lying to me for the last twenty-four years and now I discover that my husband’s proposal was predicated upon those same lies!” He reached for her but she slapped his hand away. “No, don’t touch me! You lied and told me we had to marry so quickly to break your betrothal and I, like an idiot, believed you. You must have thought I was such a naïve little twit marrying you after only five days together!” She buried her face in her hands.

He shook his head emphatically. “No, Vaush, those five days were all we needed to know that we were meant for each other and that our love—”

Vaush slapped him smartly across the face and screamed, “Shut up! I don’t want to hear any more of your lies. You took advantage of my feelings for you and parleyed them into a place in Hrollaugr history.” She punched his chest and kept swinging. “Liar! You made me love you. I would have done anything for you, given you anything!”

He grabbed her by the arms and shook her into silence. “Listen to me! I didn’t tell you the truth because I was afraid of losing you once the world discovered who you were. And if you were to be enthroned under the Bastionli banner, Larrs wouldn’t waste one second raising the imperial army against Nethic to destroy her for good. Can’t you see? I couldn’t leave that up to chance. I couldn’t risk letting you return to Larrs if that meant the end for Nethic,
and
the end for us.”

In her soft hazel eyes he could see the internal struggle tearing her apart. She desperately wanted to believe him,
needed
to believe him, but she had been so profoundly betrayed by everyone closest to her. She hardly knew who or what to trust.

“Vaush…trust what you felt when we were lying in each other’s arms, blending our souls into one. That was real, constant and eternal.”

He saw the edge in her hazel eyes soften. He could feel his words comforting her, easing her mind. Though doubt lingered, at least she was listening and giving credence to his version of the truth.

Abruptly, she turned away and smoothed her hands over her face. “I need time to process all of this. I have so many questions and now this damned war.”

“Vaush, the only way to end this war is to take you before the proper authorities on Novoxos. They must learn of your existence so that you can take your rightful place.”

She cut him a look. “As I stated before, I don’t want any part of Novoxos or the Royal Hrollaugr Legacy. I just want to live the life that I already had. Devil take the rest of it.”

“And I would rejoice to live that life with you, but it’s not that simple, Vaush. Thalonius means to kill you and won’t stop hunting you until he does.”

“What?” she said, deeply distraught.

“As long as you draw breath, you are a threat to him. House Van Laven was to be a part of the conspiracy to do away with you since, second to Thalonius, we had the most to lose by your enthronement.”

              “Or the most to gain considering your rather fortuitous marriage to me,” she said tersely and gestured at his scars. “Did the horrific beating take place before or after Crausin learned of my true lineage?”

He saw where this particular line of reasoning was leading. “Vaush, my father wants absolutely
nothing
to do with you, Bastionli or not.” He stretched his arms out so she could have a good look at his mutilated body. “This was my reward for refusing to surrender your location to him. My God, he nearly castrated me in hopes of keeping us apart for good.”

Vaush cupped her hands to her mouth as she glanced downward.

“I was spared that damning humiliation when Larrs showed up bombarding the place with a third of the Ti-Larosian fleet. I used the chaos as cover to escape.” The room suddenly swayed before him and he reached for the bed to sit down.

He saw the deep concern in her eyes as she advanced toward him but then stopped short. “You should stay here and rest. I’m going to run the blood test and then decide my next move.”

“Vaush, wait.”

“No!” she said sharply. “I need to do this on my own.” She gave him a searing look that told him his deceit would not be easily forgotten.

She hurried out of the room without another word.

“Damn it!” Comron said as he got up and began to dress.