The Grand Design (75 page)

“Simon, look at me,” Richius ordered. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Simon looked. His eyes were deep, rich with pain.

“Why did you bring her back to me?” Richius asked softly. “There’s something, I know there is. Tell me.”

The Naren’s lips began to tremble. “Because I love a woman.”

“Rubbish! Don’t listen to him, Richius!”

Richius put a hand up to quiet Prakna. “What do you mean?” he asked Simon. “What woman? A wife?”

“Not a wife. Not yet.” Simon turned his bleeding face away. His nose was on fire, just like the first time Richius had broken it. “She’s trapped on Crote. I had to do this, Richius. I
had to.
Or Biagio would have kept her from me.” He put his hands to his face. Richius thought he might be weeping. “Now he’ll kill her. He will, if we don’t stop him. That’s why I brought your girl back to you. God, Richius, help me.…”

“What? Help you how?”

Simon swallowed his choking emotions, summoning enough steadiness to look at Richius directly. “I can help you with your invasion of Crote. I know Crote better than anyone. If you’ll let me, I can get Eris out of there! You can—”

“Lies!” Prakna roared. “Don’t listen to him, Jackal!”

“I’m not lying!” Simon cried. He was desperate now, near hysteria. “Please, Richius, listen to me. I can help you. If you’ll let me go with you I can lead you straight to Biagio. Then I can rescue Eris and you can take the island. It’s true, every word of it!”

Richius shook his head sadly. “You swore to me once before, Simon. Remember? You swore you’d never harm Shani or Dyana. How am I supposed to believe you now, after what you’ve done?”

“I can help you,” Simon said again. “I’m not lying. If I was lying I wouldn’t have brought Shani back to you.”

It was sound enough logic, Richius supposed. He glanced at Shani, who had her little arms wrapped
around Shii’s neck and was looking down at him, confused by the whole situation. Richius rose and went to his daughter, taking her from Shii. Prakna reached down and lifted Simon roughly to his feet. The fleet commander held the Naren by the collar as he waited for Richius’ answer. They were all waiting—Prakna’s men, Simon, Shii and all the Lissens—staring at him as if he had some great wisdom to impart. But Richius ignored them. He smiled at Shani, cooing at her and rubbing his nose against hers, and all he wanted was to be away from here, back in Falindar with Dyana. He would have to get word to her. Somehow, Prakna would have to send a ship back to Falindar, to let Dyana know their daughter was safe.

“Oh, Shani,” he sighed. “Your mother must be so worried about you.”

“Richius,” Prakna interrupted. “What should I do with this piece of filth?”

“I’m not lying, Richius,” said Simon desperately. “You have to believe me. I’m not asking this for myself, but for Eris. We were to be married when I returned to Crote with Shani. But if I don’t return, Biagio will kill her. He will, and that won’t be my fault. It will be yours if you turn me away.”

“Don’t you dare blame me for any of this,” flared Richius. “And if this Eris is anything like you, I say let her die.”

Simon shook his head. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. Eris isn’t like me at all. I may be evil, but she’s not. She’s innocent.” He tried to shake off Prakna’s grip, but the fleet commander didn’t let go, so Simon stood there imploringly. He looked exhausted, as if he was about to collapse. “Richius, please. I can help you. I know Crote. And you don’t, do you?”

“Very perceptive, Roshann,” spat Richius. But he knew Simon was right. Without at least a map of Crote, they might all be cut to pieces. In typical Roshann
fashion, Simon had maneuvered them into a corner. Richius wondered if he had any choice at all. Yet even with so much logic, Richius couldn’t bring himself to answer Simon. At that moment, he couldn’t even look at him.

“I’m going to my quarters,” he said. “And I don’t want to be bothered. Not by any of you.”

He turned away. Simon called after him desperately, but he ignored the Naren’s pleas. Only when Prakna called did he bother to answer.

“Jackal?” asked Prakna. “What should I do with him?”

“Nothing,” replied Richius bitterly, then walked away.

That night, sleep didn’t come to Richius. Too restless from the day’s events, he spent hours alone in his private quarters, a little room attached to one of the barracks and warmed only by a small stone hearth the Lissens had built for him in the center of the room, far enough from the close wooden walls to keep the place from catching fire. The floor was dirt and the hearth was dug deep, with poorly cut slate tiles laid on the ground to lend a semblance of finish. Richius had given Shani his bed. A carefully preserved fire glowed in the chamber, turning her sleeping face orange above a pile of blankets. It was very late now and Shani was exhausted, not only from the trip but also from the hours of attention Richius had lavished on her. Seeing his daughter again had done something to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He
wouldn’t.

A cloud of insects droned somewhere off in the dunes. Richius sat back in his creaky chair, listening to them while he watched Shani sleep. Because it had been built so quickly, there were no windows in the room, but the distant noises seeped through the boarded
walls. There was probably a moon outside, and stars. Richius thought about waking Shani to show them to her. The stars were very clear here. But she was so perfectly asleep he didn’t want to disturb her. In the morning he would have to send her back to Dyana. Somehow, he would have to convince Prakna to spare a ship for her. Richius wasn’t sure the fleet commander would do the favor for him, and hoped he wouldn’t have to get Queen Jelena involved.

And then there was the question of Simon.

“What should I do?” Richius whispered. Simon had come a long way just to give Shani back to him. The Naren had even risked his life. Richius wanted to think that signaled some change in him, but Simon was a Roshann agent and that they were all master manipulators, not to be trusted. Like Biagio.

Biagio.
Richius remembered how he had told Dyana that Biagio would never forgive him or forsake his vengeance, and how Dyana and Lucyler had both thought him paranoid. But they were Triin. They didn’t know the truth about Biagio, and couldn’t possibly understand his insanity—not like Richius could. He had only met the count a few times, but he still remembered his blazing eyes and golden skin, all the foppish mannerisms belying the iron beneath. Biagio was frightful, both beautiful and terrible to behold, and a demon without peer. Of all the dead emperor’s henchmen, Biagio was the worst.

There was a knock at the door, startling Richius from his musings. He looked at Shani, still asleep, then got out of his chair.

“I asked not to be disturbed,” he said crossly as he pulled open the door. He didn’t expect to see Simon staring back at him. Prakna was with him, holding him by the arm.

“What is this?” asked Richius.

“He wouldn’t shut up until I brought him here,
Jackal,” said the Lissen. “He says he has important things to talk to you about.”

“And it couldn’t wait ’til tomorrow?”

“No, Richius, it couldn’t,” said Simon. He had lost his earlier deference and now was his old, arrogant self again. “It’s important you listen to me. I told you once before, I won’t be your prisoner.”

Richius scowled at Simon. “There’s nowhere for you to go, Simon. I could let you loose right now and you’d die of exposure in a day. You
are
my prisoner, Roshann. Like it or not.”

“Don’t be a stubborn fool, Richius,” Simon advised. “I can help you. You know I can.”

“But I don’t know that you
will
,” Richius corrected. “You’re a liar. You’ve already proven that.”

Simon’s face hardened. “I’m not lying. You have my word on that.”

The claim made both Richius and Prakna laugh. Simon shook off the Lissen’s grip and glared at Richius.

“Don’t send me away,” he warned. “You’ll be sorry if you do. I know what your mission is, remember? And I know Crote, better than any one of you. Right?”

“You’re a Naren pig,” jeered Prakna.

“Right, Richius?” pressed Simon.

Richius wanted to close the door on him, but couldn’t. They just looked at each other, Simon imperious, Richius trying to retain his hatred. But eventually his expression softened just a little. Simon seized on it.

“I can help you,” he said with earnest. “Please, for Eris.”

“I don’t even know Eris.”

Simon smiled. “But you’d like her if you did.”

Richius shook his head in exasperation. “Prakna, do me a favor. Please leave us alone. I’ll look after him for now.”

The fleet commander’s eyes rolled in disgust. “Richius …”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I just want to listen to his offer. Please, Prakna. Trust me on this.”

“Whatever,” the commander rumbled, then stalked off into the night, leaving Simon alone with Richius.

An awkward silence engulfed them. Richius shut the door so as not to disturb his daughter. Simon stared down at his feet, embarrassed. Then he shrugged.

“You broke my nose again,” he said.

“I think you deserve that, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”

Richius looked at Simon in the starlight. The bleeding had stopped but his nose had indeed swollen into a purple mass. It looked like it hurt badly. Richius was happy to see it. But Simon didn’t seem happy about anything. He seemed dejected, sick of himself and weary of his life. He couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head.

“Look at me, Simon,” Richius directed. He wanted to see into those eyes, to try and gauge the truth in them. Simon looked up reluctantly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Believe it or not, I am sorry.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” said Richius. “I thought you were a friend, Simon. Do you know what a colossal fool I feel like now?”

Simon didn’t look away, though it was clearly a struggle for him. “I don’t blame you for hating me. You have that right. And you have the right to turn me down. But if you do, you’ll only be hurting your own chances. I know what you want, Richius.”

“Oh, really? And what would that be?”

“Biagio.”

Richius grimaced. “Good guess.”

“I can help you get him,” Simon continued. “I know everything about him, all his habits and strengths. I can serve him up to you on a silver platter.”

“And why would you do that?” asked Richius. “Isn’t he your
master
?” He spat out the word in disgust.

“I’m doing this for Eris,” Simon insisted. “That’s the only reason.”

“Nonsense. You’re a Roshann agent. I know what that means. You’re supposed to serve Biagio until you die. That’s the deal, isn’t it? Death before dishonor? What you’re saying is treason.” Richius poked at Simon. “Why?”

Simon sighed, leaning against the wooden wall and staring up at the stars. “My life is complicated, Richius. I’m not what I used to be. And neither is Biagio. He’s insane now. He takes a drug to make him immortal.”

“I know about the drug,” said Richius. “Go on.”

“It’s made him mad, I think. I know he would kill Eris if he found out I betrayed him. And he will find out. If I don’t get her away from him, she’ll die.”

“And why should I care about that? Any woman who loves you must be as mad as Biagio.”

Simon gave Richius a sad smile. “I know you better than that, Richius Vantran. Eris is innocent. And you can’t stand to see innocent people die.”

“So?”

“If you don’t let me help you, Eris is going to die. And probably a whole lot of these
children
you’re planning on leading against Crote.”

“They’re soldiers,” corrected Richius icily. “They don’t kill because they’re getting paid for it, Roshann. They have honor.”

“All right,” Simon conceded. “But maybe I have honor, too. Maybe just a scrap of it, something the years haven’t buried yet.” His eyes flicked back to the stars. “I guess that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

There was something so genuine in Simon’s tone that Richius wanted desperately to believe him.

“Can I ask you something, Richius?” asked Simon quietly.

“Go ahead.”

“What are you trying to accomplish here? I mean, besides killing Biagio?”

The odd question made Richius bristle. “Simon, I don’t understand.”

“I looked around. I saw these so-called soldiers of yours. They’re just kids.”

Richius chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about these people. Once I thought as you do, but not anymore. There’s more heart on this little island than in all the nations of Nar combined.” He looked out over the darkened camp, proud of himself. “I’m not just leading an army. I’m championing a cause.”

“Is that right?” Simon quipped. “And what cause would that be?”

“One word,” said Richius. “Justice.”

“Justice,” scoffed Simon. “Looks more like revenge to me.”

“Call it whatever you like. But these men and women have something you’ll never have. They have heart. You say you’re going back for a woman. You think that gives you heart? Maybe it’s just lust, did you ever think of that?”

Simon regarded Richius. “You know, I remember another story about a man who turned his back on his country for a woman. Lots of people thought he was insane, caught up by a pretty face. But he did what he thought was right. At least that’s what he claims. I never argued with
him
, or questioned
his
heart.”

“That’s different,” Richius snapped. “I never kidnapped anyone.”

“I brought her back, Richius. I did because it was the right thing to do. Please, at least try to believe that.” Simon put his hand on Richius’ shoulder. “Don’t make me beg for this. Not to save the woman I love.”

Richius didn’t shrug off the Naren’s hand. He knew he should have, knew that Prakna would be appalled to see their camaraderie, but he liked the touch and the sincerity in it. He closed his eyes, considering things for a long moment.

“You know, Prakna might kill me for this,” he said finally. “Are you sure you can help me?”

“Yes,” said Simon. “Very sure.”

When Richius opened his eyes, the Naren was looking at him brightly, his face aglow with new hope. He stuck out his hand for Simon, who took it and gave it a hard, promising squeeze.