Lady of the Star Wind (25 page)

Swallowing hard, Mark prayed to the Lords of Space for a swift, merciful death once the executioners were ordered to inflict the punishment.

Sandy witnessing his death was beyond his worst nightmare.

“I was proud to serve with you, my brother,” Rothan said quietly.

“An honor for me as well.” Mark took a deep breath, intending to die with as much dignity as he could muster.

 
An odd quiver vibrated through the stone columns, jerking his restraints, threatening to dislocate his shoulders.

A low rumbling burst from the ground below the bloodstained stones. A crack of thunder boomed, and lightning flashed through the night sky above. Next moment, the courtyard rocked in the grip of a moderate earthquake. Held upright by the implacable bonds at his wrists, Mark felt blood flowing freely as the restraints cut into him. From what little he could see, people were staggering in the small courtyard, most falling where they stood. Terrified courtiers and soldiers crawled in a vain search for safe shelter. Screams could be heard above the thunderous sound of the earthquake.
 

A large portion of the Palace façade crumbled and toppled onto the courtyard with a crash like an explosion, followed by more masonry. The two executioners and a number of the Maiskhan soldiers were caught in the avalanche of stones, screaming as they fell under tons of rubble. Gaddaf pulled Farahna to the dubious safety of the palace entrance. Sandy and Tia scrabbled on hands and knees away from the crumbling wall at their backs, taking shelter under the other doorway’s arch.

The shaking lasted for a good thirty seconds, stopped for a heartbeat, and then an aftershock rumbled through the ground with a single sharp jolt. Crashing sounds could be heard as more walls collapsed and columns fell in other areas of the palace.

“As I foretold, the gods don’t wish these men to die!” Tia screamed to anyone who might be listening as she rose to her feet.

Another small aftershock rattled the palace.

“Release them, or the gods will bring this place down on your head, Farahna.” Tia made this dire prophecy at the top of her lungs as she struggled to keep her footing.

Mark heard a yelled command from the queen. “Do it, release them!”

Staggering like a drunk, Seroj regained his feet. He took two steps toward Mark and Rothan, drawing his belt knife to cut the ropes, and was crushed by a toppling statue as another, more powerful, aftershock rolled through the bedrock under the palace.

 
Abandoning their attempt to reform a line around the prisoners, the surviving Maiskhan soldiers broke ranks and ran from the area.

“Sandy, quick, grab a knife and get me down,” Mark said, straining against the restraints to see her. “We’ve got a short window of opportunity for escape here.”

 
As the trembling underfoot faded and the earth steadied, Sandy and Tia each gathered a belt knife from a dead or dying guard. The women sawed at the restraints holding Mark and Rothan to the columns. The second he was free, Mark took Sandy in his arms and held her tight, burying his face in her soft hair. She was shaking so hard she dropped the knife.

“I’d have gone insane watching them execute you. These people are barbarians!”

“We’re not out of the woods yet.” He drew Sandy behind him, shielded by the pillar as Gaddaf, the Maiskhan commander, reentered the courtyard. He drove a squad of his men with him, cursing and beating them with the flat of his sword.

Mark checked for potential exits, but there was no hope of escape from the enclosed space. The Maiskhan were coming at them from both doorways.

“You possess the luck of the gods, at any event, traitors.” The Maiskhan commander stared at them from his position behind the ranks of his soldiers. “The queen has altered her decree. You’re to be interred alive with the women after all, entombed with Hutenen’s body tomorrow.” Lowering his voice, he leaned closer. “No doubt it would momentarily displease the queen, but I’ve no compunctions about killing all of you right here.” Eyes gleaming in the torchlight, Gaddaf ran his finger along the edge of his sword. He made a beckoning gesture with his other hand. “Give me an excuse.”

Surrounded by edgy guards, the four prisoners marched under Gaddaf’s supervision through halls full of frightened courtiers, fallen walls, and damaged statuary to a cell in the lower depths of the palace.

“Dawn arrives soon, bringing the hour of your funeral procession. Make peace with your gods.” Gaddaf left one torch in a wall sconce and slammed the cell door as he departed.

A heavy bolt locked on the other side, the sound echoing in the small space. Mark assessed the situation, which took a depressingly short time. The room was a large rectangle divided into four open cells by partitions. There was a stack of lumpy, straw-filled mats by the door, a couple of benches, and nothing else. He did a quick reconnaissance of the entire room, noting chains and bloodstains in several alcoves. Pacing to the entry, he said, “We’re not getting out of here. Not even a window.”

“No, we’re well and truly caught,” Rothan agreed. “What of Djed? He didn’t return with you to the
Lady Dawn
.”

Pondering the potential for ambushing a guard the next time anyone entered the cell, Mark said, “I ordered him to stay on the loose. I hoped he could manage something, some kind of rescue.”

“At least he won’t suffer our fate.”

“My head spins. I’m dizzy.” Tia moaned, sagging against Rothan suddenly. “I need to lie down.”

While Rothan carried his swooning wife, Mark dragged two of the mattresses into the far corner, piling one on top of another so Rothan had somewhere to place her. Kneeling on the grimy floor beside the rearranged bedding, Sandy took her pulse.

“Rapid. I think she’s a bit in shock after all we’ve been through. She needs to rest and be kept warm. I wish I had my medical bag.”

Rothan sat on the lumpy mat next to Tia, folding her tenderly in his arms. “I’ll provide such warmth as I can, and comfort, till the guards come for us.”

Mark took Sandy by the hand, raising her easily to her feet. “Let’s give them some privacy, as much as we can in this dungeon.”

She held his wrist and peered at the cuts in the torchlight. “I’d better bandage these. Nothing to wash them with, no antiseptic.”

“I don’t think I’m going to have time to worry about infection.” Returning to the entry, he got a grip on the best of the remaining mattresses and dragged them to the farthest corner, inside the least disgusting cubicle. Sandy followed. “Might as well be comfortable ourselves. Have a bit of privacy.” He sat on the hard surface and reached for her. She folded herself into his embrace. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“You’re freezing. Such a flimsy nightgown.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her.

“You’re half naked and soaked from swimming!”

“We’re a fine pair, all right. Still alive, though.” He bent his head and kissed her softly on the bare shoulder.

Sandy stared at him. “When you came on board the
Lady Dawn
tonight, I was so frightened for you, afraid the Maiskhan would kill you right there. Why didn’t you stay with Djed? Try to rescue us later?”

Smoothing her hair away from her face, he said, “I’m never going to be parted from you again. There were too many Maiskhan on the ship for me to be able to rescue you. Using my blaster against all those archers on the enemy ship would have left too much chance you’d be injured or killed. Blasters are no good in close-quarters combat. I figured the next best thing was to be captured along with you. More chance of being able to make something happen, since I’m lacking situational intel on this world and have little hope for reinforcements.” He realized he’d clenched his fists. “Not that I’m having much success extracting us from danger so far.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” She tore strips from her gown and did the best she could to wrap his wrists, tsking over the renewed damage at the site of the snakebite. He flexed his arms when she’d finished. “Thanks.”

“On the house.” She lay back against his chest.

He hugged her. “Listen, I don’t know how much time we have before they come to take us, but I need to tell you two things.”

“Yes?” She faced him when he didn’t immediately continue.

Mark brushed her lips with a kiss. “One, I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know for dragging you into exile on this planet, bringing you into danger after danger, risking your life for total strangers—”

“I’ve heard enough.” She placed her fingers on his lips. “We made the decision together to take the chance Lajollae offered. You were facing certain death on Freemarket, and as you said at the time, my fate wasn’t going to be much better.” She gave an exaggerated shiver. “Barent Kliin is a monster. At least here we’ve been side by side. I wouldn’t give up sharing the dangers with you if Lajollae appeared in this cell right now and offered to send me to Throne.”

Mark kissed her fingertips and then her lips. She returned the embrace but wasn’t finished speaking her mind. “All those years when I believed you were dead, I was merely existing, walking through life, losing myself in my work, and caring for others so I wouldn’t think so much about what I’d lost. Since you came for me, and brought me here, well, I’ve lived. I’m happy.” She spared a quick glance at the dingy, smelly cell. “No matter what we’re going through.”

Mark studied her face in the flickering torchlight. “Which brings me to my second item. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Even when I tried to make myself hate you, in the Sectors, my heart was yours.” He linked his fingers with hers. “That’s why I never found anyone else. I belong to you.”

“I understand.” She raised her face to his, and they kissed for a moment.
 

Attempting to get more comfortable, Mark leaned against the wall, Sandy curled on his lap, her head pillowed on his chest. Although his shoulders and back ached from being strung up in the courtyard, and buffeted by the earthquake, he endured the discomfort to be close to her. He drew in a deep breath of her perfume and her warm, womanly essence, the scents easing his mind and body down from the edge of adrenaline stress.
 

After a moment or two of this, she lifted her shoulder to break free of his embrace. Instantly, Mark moved his hands away from her, and she turned, repositioning herself on his lap, her legs wrapped around him, arms circling his neck. The curves of her soft bottom pressing on his cock aroused him even in this situation. Mark lowered his head and leaned into a caress, his tongue probing gently at the invitation she offered with her parted lips. They kissed passionately, tongues exploring, twined in a sinuous, hot dance. After a moment, he withdrew, trailing soft caresses along the curve of her warm and sensuous neck, always one of his favorite places on her body. Tilting her head for him, Sandy allowed him to nuzzle the sexy, soft hollow where her neck curved into her shoulder. She slid one hand between their bodies, cupping him.
 

Unable to stop himself, he thrust against the pressure as she massaged his shaft through the fabric of his damp kilt. He took her mouth for another deep, long kiss. “I want you,” he whispered.

“Can we? Here?” Sandy glanced at the dank prison walls as she caught her lower lip in her teeth. “What about Rothan and Tia?”

“They’re probably doing the same thing about now.”

“Aren’t you in a lot of pain?” She searched his face. “The Maiskhan weren’t any too gentle. I don’t want to aggravate your injuries.”

“Let me worry about my injuries. Don’t be the doctor for a few moments.” Seeing consent in the way her eyes softened as she smiled at him, he rolled them over onto the lumpy mattress, so she lay pinned beneath him, his penis nestled in the vee of her legs, separated by the layers of their clothing. “We don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but at least we have the rest of the night.” Keeping the weight of his upper torso on his elbows, he smoothed her hair across the mattress. “I don’t want to die without loving you again.”

She put her hand on his lips. “I’m with you all the way, my
bogatyr.
This moment is what we have, so let’s savor it.”

 
Capturing his lips with hers, she tenderly explored his mouth while working his clothing off. She ran her hands over his thighs, massaging and caressing, until she was squeezing his butt. Her fingers brushed his balls through the coarse fabric of his undergarment. Responding to her ministrations, his shaft pulled the fabric taut. She pushed him over onto his back, Mark yielding to her without reservation. Sandy stroked his nipples, making him shiver, and ran her hands across the taut muscles of his abdomen, Silky hair caressing his skin as she lowered her head, she pulled the drawstring of his loincloth loose with her teeth. Moving away a few inches, she tugged at the garment with her hands, arousal making her hasty, a bit rough as she rendered him naked.

Freed, his shaft immediately jutted out, ready for action.

 
“Come here,” she ordered, wrapping her hands around the base of his penis to stroke him, base to tip, holding him prisoner, not that he had any intention of complaining. She swirled her tongue across the engorged head, lapping up the first pearly drops of arousal. He fisted his hands in her hair to pull her closer as his hips bucked. She took him into her mouth, sucking, releasing, teasing.