Escape From Zulaire (12 page)

“I think the rebel leader is losing some support from his own men.” Andi glanced over the mob again, noting more than a few ashamed faces and slumping shoulders.

On the roadway below, the Naranti gestured with the weapon. “All right, say your damn prayers, old man. But be quick about it! And don’t concern yourself on
my
behalf. I don’t follow your tired, irrelevant Sanenre.”
 
Noisily, he hawked and spat.

Rahuna raised his bleeding head with an effort, eyes seeking the sun, in whose flames of purity Sanenre was believed to dwell. Sinking to his knees in the dusty road, facing the proper direction, he recited the prayer for the dying.

“
Now.
” Tom’s order was a curt whisper.

Andi jumped, lost her grip on the blaster. Swearing under her breath, she got the weapon firmly in her hand again, scrambled to her feet. Adrenaline and anger swept through her, making her aim deadly, as she thought about what the rebels had done at the compound and in the village.
These men don’t deserve mercy.
Beside her, the soldiers fired at the designated targets in economic, efficient bursts. The energy charges flashed in a whining barrage, wreaking havoc on the mob.
 

“They’re trying to get away!” Tom shouted. A small knot of the remaining Naranti Clansmen made a mad scramble for the nearer of the two vehicles. “Concentrate fire on the red truck.”

Andi switched her aim to the designated cargo hauler, joining her fire with a stream of energy coming from her companions’ blasters. The target vehicle’s power source detonated in a resounding explosion, sending deadly metal fragments flying for dozens of yards. Dazed and deafened by the explosion, Andi hardly felt Tom pulling her behind the rocks, shielding her from the shrapnel screaming through the air. A second explosion shook the hill as the other cargo hauler blew up.

Above her head, the captain swore in a steady stream. “
Damn it
. There goes our hope of getting transport.” Andi buried her face in her arms, conscious of the reassuring weight of Tom’s two hundred-plus pounds shielding her. He wrapped himself tightly around her as more explosions went off.

The moment of silence stretched, and Andi heard her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

Tom raised his head to check out the scene. Then he rolled off of Andi, putting his face next to hers for a second. “You okay?”

“My ears are ringing, but I’m fine.”
 

Tom got to his feet. “All clear, men. Get down there and see if we screwed up enough to kill the guy we were trying to rescue. Rogers, go tell Abukawal to be ready to move out fast. We’re going to have to get away from this mess with all possible speed.”

He extended a casual hand to help Andi to her feet, but kept her in his grip, allowing the soldiers to go in first. Not until Wilson signaled an all-clear from the roadway did the captain lead her to the bottom of the hill, pausing at the edge of the ditch, where the three younger priests lay in a tangled heap.

Tom checked to see if any of the men still lived. Rejoining her, he shook his head. “We were too late to help any of them. Sorry.”

Shaking a bit from the aftereffects of the battle, Andi clambered to the roadway.
At least at the village the violence had happened before I arrived on the scene. Horrific as the devastation was, I didn’t see the events as they occurred. But here,
I
killed a few of these people.
Her stomach heaved, and she stopped walking, bending over, hand across her abdomen.

“Are you all right?” The captain put his arm around her shoulders.
 

Not trusting her voice, she nodded.
 

Tom gave her a half hug before moving away. “Hey, you did a good job for your first time in combat. Once we engaged, it was them or us, you know.”

“I know.” Andi resumed her climb up the last few feet of the slope.

“The reverend is still alive, sir,” Wilson called as she and Tom stepped onto the black surface of the transportway. Medkit open, the sergeant crouched on his knees next to Rahuna, checking for injuries. “Shrapnel blew right over him, I guess. I think he passed out.”

“Help him take care of your priest, would you, please?” Tom directed Andi in Wilson’s direction. “Latvik, come on. You and I need to make sure none of these rebels are still breathing.”

As Andi knelt next to Wilson, Rahuna’s eyes flickered open. Arching his pencil-thin eyebrows, he cleared his throat. “Are you winged messengers of Sanenre?” He looked from her to the sergeant and back again.

“Not exactly.”
 
Smiling, Andi patted his shoulder. She grabbed the folded shawl from her pack and slid it under his head to serve as a cushion against the hard surface of the road.
 

“No matter. I’m not disappointed.” Rahuna got his elbows under him and tried to sit.
 

Not unkindly, Wilson pushed him back. “Not yet, sir, if you please. I need to finish dressing your head wound.”

The priest eased himself down. “Who are you and where did you come from?”

“We escaped a massacre at the Obati summer colony.” Andi sat cross-legged on the road to get more comfortable, resting the blaster across her lap. “These soldiers are the survivors of a Sectors patrol detailed to escort me home. We got caught in the attack, and now we’re trying to get to the capital to let the authorities know what’s going on.”

“Sanenre sent you to this spot at this moment.” Rahuna’s voice sounded stronger, less raspy. “My fellow priests? What of them?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Andi took his hand. “We were barely in time to help you. Too late for the others.”

“My nephew was the last to fall, trying to defend me.” He blinked hard, biting his lip, and closed his expressive brown eyes for a moment. “How shall I face my sister with this news?”
 

Thinking about her own family, about the Tonkilns, Andi blinked back some tears herself, squeezing his hand in silent sympathy.
 

Opening his eyes, Rahuna studied Andi. “I think I know you. From the capital?”

“Yes, we’ve met. I’m Andrianda Markriss, deputy agent of the Loxton Galactic Trading station. This is Sergeant Mitch Wilson of the Sectors Special Forces.”

“Glad to meet you, sir.” Wilson finished the last bandage and started putting away his supplies. “You can sit now, but take it slow, okay?”

With Andi at one side and the sergeant offering support on the other, His Serene Holiness managed to sit upright. “My head spins most alarmingly.” Wincing, he put his hand to his forehead.

“A normal reaction to a head wound, sir.” Wilson was reassuring, calm as always. “It was a glancing blow. You’re going to have a spectacular bruise but no concussion. You’ve got a couple of superficial cuts and bruises and one flesh wound to the lower leg. Guess you didn’t manage to duck all the shrapnel when the truck blew.”

“I’m so relieved you’re going to be all right, sir.” Andi smiled at Rahuna. “Bruises and a headache are much better than what could have happened.”

“I think the captain needs me over there by what’s left of the truck, ma’am. Can you keep an eye on your friend here?” Wilson asked.

“Of course. Go on.” Andi waved the sergeant on his way, then helped Rahuna to his feet. A bit portly, the cleric was about her height, somewhat short for a Naranti. “Sir, what were you doing way out here without an escort?”

“I’d been to the meditation pools at Quanjiran. I heard tales of the unrest in the countryside, but I didn’t want to believe the four hundred-year peace had been broken. A few hotheaded young Shentis, perhaps, but nothing the Obati couldn’t solve on their own. So I took my pilgrimage to Quanjiran, as always in this time of year. Then, two nights ago, I received an urgent summons to return to the capital. We…we set out at once.” He put his head down, scuffed one toe at a piece of shrapnel on the roadway. Andi felt him shiver.

“If you’d rather not talk about it—”

“I regret to the bottom of my soul that I didn’t listen to those who urged me to wait for an armed escort. Lord Tonkiln offered to send guards. My impatience and foolish belief in my own immunity as Serene Holiness cost three good men their lives today. I’ll bear the burden until I, too, go to my grave.” Rahuna stared at a pile of rebel corpses across the roadway. “Did you see
 
the mob was Naranti?”

“Yes, sir. The men who attacked the Obati summer colony were all Naranti, too. The ringleader there was Iraku, Lord Tonkiln’s chief of household,” Andi said.

“Unthinkable.” Rahuna’s voice sharpened. He rubbed at his eyes, then stared at her. “Iraku had been a loyal servant to the Tonkilns for thirty years.”
 

Yeah, till he started murdering them.
“Iraku is a key figure in this rebellion. I’m sorry to have to add to your distress about the identity of the rebel forces, but the truth is plain.” She gestured at the carnage around them. “An unknown number of your Clan’s people are at the bottom of this.”

“What drove my Naranti brethren to madness?” Rahuna leaned all his weight on her for a moment, closing his eyes, whether in physical or mental pain, she couldn’t hazard a guess. She staggered a little under the burden, and he stood up straighter.

Andi put a supportive arm around his waist as he wavered off balance. “They’re trying to make it look as if the Shenti and Obati Clans are committing these crimes on each other,” she explained. “We’re traveling with a young Shenti warrior who’s going to the capital to give firsthand evidence. Abukawal heard Naranti Clan members planning attacks on various outlying areas.”

“You speak of a massacre at the Obati summer colony? No wonder Tonkiln offered me armed escort,” Rahuna said in a wondering tone. “I hadn’t heard of this fresh atrocity—he didn’t speak of it in his message. How bad was it?”

Andi shivered, breathing rapidly, pulse skyrocketing. The memories rose all too readily to her mind’s eye, the events still too raw and fresh for her to suppress.Rahuna put his dry, warm palm on her forehead. At his touch, the sounds and sights of the massacre faded. Peaceful calm stole over her, radiating through her body from the center of her forehead where his fingers rested. She’d heard of the ability His Serene Holiness was said to possess, to ease mental or physical anguish with his touch.
 

“Sanenre’s Serenity be upon you, child,” Rahuna chanted. “I’ll hear the details another time, when both you and I are more prepared to cope. Thanks to Sanenre for preserving you and your companions from evil.”

“Yes, thanks indeed,” Andi echoed the common phrase of gratitude. Although she was not a believer in the local religion, she respected the beliefs of the Zulairians.
Maybe Sanenre is watching over us, who knows?
 

Tom strode back across the transportway, Wilson and Latvik trailing in his wake. Andi focused only on the captain, studying his face, tired and lined, but resolute. His wide shoulders were set, his bearing military.
Just the warrior I want at my side when things are going all to hell.
He flashed a smile at her, and she knew she blushed a little.

Turning to Rahuna, she said, “Sir, allow me to present Captain Tom Deverane of the Sectors Special Forces.” Given Rahuna’s exalted position on Zulaire, Andi didn’t want to skip the formalities even in such an unusual situation.

Tom gave the priest a crisp salute. Rahuna made a small bow in return, holding out his hand. “I can never offer you adequate thanks for risking your men and yourself to rescue me, Captain.”

Shooting Andi a look that was half teasing, half annoyed, Tom shook the cleric’s hand firmly. “Miss Markriss was most insistent Zulaire couldn’t manage to solve this crisis without you. She gave me no choice—we had to come to your aid. How well can you walk, sir? We have to get away from here before someone sees the smoke and comes to investigate. I doubt if there are any friendlies left in the area.”

“The trucks?” Rahuna put a hopeful lilt into his question.

“Useless. We had to slag one during the firefight to keep the survivors of the mob from getting away. The fuel tank blew in the other from the intense heat, so we’re still a foot patrol.” Tom’s brow furrowed as he exchanged a glance with Wilson.

“Let us walk then.” Rahuna squared his shoulders and adjusted his robes. “Can someone find my hat? Oh, yes, thank you, Sergeant.” Letting go of Andi’s arm, he set the shiny black cap on his closely cropped, dark-red hair. “I used to hike all day when I was a boy in the southern hill country. I won’t delay you.”

“
Oh
, my shawl…” Andi had left it, forgotten on the roadway after using the generous length of fabric as a pillow for Rahuna.

“Right here, ma’am.” Wilson held it out to her. “I grabbed this when I went back to get my medkit.”

“Thank you.” She took it from the sergeant’s outstretched hand. The afternoon breeze flung the shawl open like a banner while the sun glinted on the intricate patterns of the silver, iridescent green and lavender threads woven through the creamy wool fabric.

“A beautiful bridal shawl indeed.” Rahuna helped her reel the garment in from the wind’s grasp. “I’m honored you used it to cushion my poor broken head. You and the captain are to be wed, then?”

Andi shook her head.
Look at the appalled expression on poor Tom’s face. Keep it together
.
Don’t make this worse by laughing at his embarrassment.
“No,
no
, I found this in a destroyed Shenti village where we stopped for food and water. The nights are so cold, and I didn’t have anything to wrap up in.”
And I still feel a little guilty about taking it, but, oh—it is
so
beautiful.