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Authors: Cheryl Brooks

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

Rogue (29 page)

BOOK: Rogue
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"In here," Wazak said.

It was dark inside, but I could hear the sound of flowing water. Illuminating the glowstones on my necklace, I held them up. Though their light was dim inside such a large space, I could see that this must be the oasis source, for there was a dark pool inside with a cascade of water erupting from the center.

"Put down your stones, Kyra," Wazak said. "They will not be necessary."

Then he focused his gaze on the ceiling, and the whole place lit up—so brightly that I had to close my eyes and wait a moment for them to adjust from the darkness outside. Looking up, I saw that the entire room appeared to be lined with glowstone—not just a few of them set into the ceiling here and there, mind you, but forming every surface, with the exception of the floor.

Even the catchbasin for the water was glowing.

"This is the true Shrine of the Desert," he said quietly. "It was closed off long ago by a ruler who feared it might be desecrated." He glanced around briefly, and the light dimmed to a more comfortable level. "I disagree. It is only water, and the walls are only made of stone. Life is far more important than either of these things."

He was obviously referring to Scalia, and though she might have been no more than his queen, her death must have affected him deeply—as it had affected us all. I was no more than a visitor to her realm, but I already missed her. She had been a strong ruler, but, unlike the usurper of her throne, there was no malice in her, nor had she been corrupt—at least, not beyond her penchant for exotic slaves. The people of Darconia had been fortunate in their queen, and they would feel the effects of her loss soon enough. My only hope was that they would choose to do something about it. Up until this moment, we had simply been running for our lives; the will of the people of this region would determine what would happen next.

Chapter 15

DARCONIANS HAD NEVER STRUCK ME AS BEING A FLOCK OF

docile sheep to be herded wherever their queen chose.

Scalia's policies toward offworld trade had been gradu-ally introduced to her people, not forced upon them.

She had brought in offworld culture in an effort to demonstrate the advantages of contact with the rest of the galaxy. There were also disadvantages to this, which Dobraton had been quick to focus upon—the dilution of their own culture, the loss to their own people of planetary resources, not to mention the influx of radical ideas—but there were many advantages, which included advances in science, technology, and medicine. These things, when managed wisely, could be of great benefit to a world that had always been focused entirely upon itself. Scalia, who saw it as progress, understood that; Dobraton, who clung to the old, isolationist ways, did not.

If the other shrine had been a tribute to the beauty which water could bring to a dry and desolate world, this was a shrine to the water itself; an altar to the life-giving liquid. In the past, Darconians must have been allowed to come here not only to see the miracle of the oasis source, but also to partake of the waters, for there were containers in niches near the doorway for carrying the water. This had been what Wazak had meant when he'd said we would get water at The Shrine—
this
shrine, and not the place where the slaves lived. I agreed with Wazak; it should have been reopened. Scalia should have done it herself. In a place where water was at a premium, it would have been a gesture that would have solidly united the people in her support. Dobraton would then have been unable to recruit many followers, and the coup would never have taken place. Promising your people a McDonald's was one thing; opening this shrine would have been something else altogether.

Having overcome our initial sense of awe, we filled the empty bottles and slung them over our shoulders with the carrying harnesses hanging nearby. Unfortunately, these had been made with Darconians in mind and were too big for most of us, so we had to make a few modifications. The bottles themselves were surprisingly light and strong—like glass in some ways, but like plastic in others—undoubtedly having been intended for carrying water over long distances.

I'd never been part of a band of refugees before; I'd always been as solitary as Dobraton wanted their planet to be, but already I could feel a sense of camaraderie beginning to develop. We all knew the danger we were in, and we also knew that there was no hope for our survival if we didn't stick together. Wazak, it seemed, was of the same opinion as Tychar had been about escaping to the mountains, though what we would do after that was unclear. It was possible that we could round up enough support there and in the city to take back the palace, but before that, some regrouping was necessary—as was the time for the people to become discontented with their new ruler.

And discontent was something which I was quite certain would arise from Dobraton's rule—and I hoped it would come quickly. I had known them both, and even without Dobraton's prejudice against me, I believe I would have chosen to follow Scalia's banner, for she possessed the character of a good leader, which Dobraton did not.

Dodging a few patrols, we melted into the trees, moving quickly. The need for speed was understood by us all; we needed to get as far as we possibly could under cover of darkness.

The Darconians were tough, but we did have some children with us. I carried Uragus for a while, but it soon became apparent that I was no tougher than he was— probably less so—and I handed him off to Racknay. We snatched a bit of fruit as we passed through the trees, and it wasn't long before I was wishing for some pockets and a backpack. I tied my headdress to the harness for my water bottle, making a pouch of sorts, and collected what I could, but there was a limit to what I could carry and still keep moving.

The tigers stayed close beside me, as did Dragus. I must say that, at a time like that, it was very nice to have a surplus of big, strong, male admirers! The only thing they didn't do was try to pick me up and carry me, though Dragus
did
make the offer, which I promised to keep in mind.

Reaching the edge of the farmland by midnight, the city streets were quiet as we passed down roadways that were completely deserted at that hour. Alert for any signs of pursuit, we moved stealthily from shadow to shadow.

At length, we passed by a stable, and I whispered to Wazak. "What about stealing a few camels?"

"Camels?" he echoed.

"Oh, you know, these things," I said, pointing to one of them. "I don't know what you call them."

"Drayls," he said with disdain. "I would prefer to steal some hovercars."

"Yeah, well, I'd bet even hovercars would break down after a bit—and they're kind of noisy. These guys look like they were made for the desert." Looking up at Wazak, I knew he wouldn't have a bit of trouble crossing the desert, but I wasn't so sure about the rest of us.

"I don't think I can make it across that desert on foot, and I'd be willing to bet the rest of these offworlders can't do it either."

The Edraitians who heard that exchange didn't seem averse to riding rather than walking, but I knew for a fact that a Darconian couldn't ride a drayl, because for one thing, they were nearly the same size. The ones I'd seen had been used as pack animals, rather than for personal transport. I'd have traded my glowstones for a good speeder, but during the limited tour of the city I'd been given upon my arrival, I hadn't seen one.

Wazak still seemed reluctant, but it was getting on toward morning by this time, and to be perfectly honest, I was just plain tired and wanted a camel to ride.

So I took one.

None of the drayls tried to bite me when I entered their pen, though one of them seemed to find me quite fascinating, sniffing at me as though trying to identify my scent.

"He must smell your desire," Tychar commented.

"Well, he might if I was feeling any desire at the moment, but I'm not," I said frankly. "In fact, I don't think I've ever felt less desire in my life." Which wasn't quite true; I'd felt less when I first met Wazak. Now that I was surrounded by males most of the time, my "desire"

was probably automatic. Unfortunately, for the first time since I'd met him, I couldn't just look at Tychar's cock and know for certain.

"Guess I ought to pay something for him," I said reflectively. "Stealing a drayl probably isn't the best way to gain support among the locals." I had about decided to leave my pearls as payment when Tychar stopped me.

"No," he said as he began removing his collar. "I will leave them this. It's no more than a pretty trinket, but someone might value it, and I have no need of it now."

So, he
did
realize he was free! It seemed fitting to me that he get rid of his collar to symbolize that freedom, but Dragus was incredulous.

"You're trading
that fox
one drayl?" With a snicker, he added, "And I always thought you were fairly intelligent for an offworlder."

Tychar appeared somewhat bewildered. "What d'you mean?" he asked. "These aren't real jewels, are they?"

"I guess Scalia never told you," Dragus said, "but what the two of you have been wearing around your necks and cocks would just about buy a space cruiser.

One stone for the whole herd would be too much."

"Hear that?" I said, giving Tychar a nudge. "Better hang on to your jewelry, big guy! It's a boy's best friend, you know."

Turning them over in his hand, Tychar stared at the sparkling stones in wonderment. "Why would a queen put something of such value on a slave?"

"Could be that she valued the slave even more than the stones," I said gently. "Scalia was very fond of you guys."

Tychar nodded absently, and I wondered if he realized that he now was not only free, but filthy rich on top of that.

In the end, Tychar left one of the smaller stones out of his cock ring, which he then decided to wear as a bracelet so he would be less apt to lose it. At least, that's what he said, but I had an idea he also thought it might be uncomfortable to wear it while riding a drayl. Trag wanted to know if Tychar's blue stones were worth more than his green ones, but Dragus wasn't sure.

"They are the same mineral and are therefore of equal value," Wazak said in a firm voice, obviously not wishing to hear any further discussion on the subject. "The only difference is in their color."

That said, the Edraitians were quick to follow my lead, and pretty soon we had quite a caravan. The Darconians helped us tack them up—I'd never even saddled a horse back home—and though they were on foot themselves, they seemed to have no trouble keeping up with those of us who were mounted. Much more mo-bile now and reasonably well-armed, we blew through the city like a sandstorm.

I rode double with Tychar—well, actually triple, because I had Uragus, too; he'd conked out a good while back and lay curled up in my arms. Nindala rode with Trag, but if he smelled any desire coming from her, it wasn't obvious. The tigers looked really cool in their flowing robes, but I did miss being able to see their dicks.

The streets were completely deserted, as if the entire city had gone into hiding. It was likely that the residents of Arconcia had heard about the government upheaval and were staying inside their homes—or had been warned to stay off the streets—but whatever the reason, we saw no one.

Reaching the fringes of the city with the dawn, we now faced the desert crossing by day. I was all for hol-ing up somewhere to sleep until it got dark again, but Wazak insisted we push on. Riding a drayl was a lot easier than running, so I couldn't really complain, but I would have thought that even Wazak would have to rest now and then. I kept waiting for some of the younger ones to start grumbling, but they never did. Zealon and Racknay ran side by side, never slowing their pace for a moment. As marathon runners, they'd have beaten the pants off of anyone else—especially any humans—and they had their anger at Dobraton to sustain them.

Then the sun came up, and the temperature began to rise. Fortunately, it wasn't as far to the mountains as I had imagined, and after I thought about it, I remembered that from the shore, you could only see about eighteen kilometers out to sea on Earth. Darconia was a much larger planet, which meant that its curvature was less and you could see farther, but still, the base of those mountains couldn't have been much more than thirty kilometers away. Even so, it was thirty kilometers across a very hot desert strewn with rocks and boulders.

From a distance, that is. Up close, there was a whole lot more to it, and I saw plenty of tough-looking plants and the occasional scuttling bit of wildlife. I'd also forgotten that there were mines in the mountains, and, consequently, there was a road of sorts leading in that direction with stone shelters built along the way. Of course, anyone looking for us would have checked those places first, but as the morning wore on, I began to wonder if anyone was looking for us at all. It was possible that our enemies would assume that we would disappear into the desert and die off, one by one, but I found that hard to believe, because the pursuit in the palace had been pretty determined.

If Wazak had heard anything over his comlink, he didn't mention it, but kept us moving, though we did have to stop twice to let the drayls have a rest. Riding had its obvious advantages, but the swaying gait of the drayl was rather hypnotic and, having been up all night, I kept nodding off and was afraid I'd drop Uragus, so I wound up handing him off to Racknay and Zealon again.

Tychar, however, stayed awake and held me steady when I would have fallen. The journey would have been much more difficult without him, and his arms around me helped keep me strong. We spoke very little, and I was left to wonder how he felt about being free after so many years of slavery. It could have been that he hadn't come to grips with the idea enough to talk about it yet.

Or perhaps he didn't consider being on the run much different from being a slave.

I kept those thoughts to myself, however, because talking would have made us that much more thirsty, and even while riding drayls and wearing our Bedouin garb, it was still hot as hell. I was sparing with my water, and I hated to think how quickly I would have wilted had this flight to the mountains taken place a few months previously.

BOOK: Rogue
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