Legend Beyond The Stars (38 page)

Tarak halted within arm’s reach of Rajan, she noticed with concern. Her alarm mounted when he disengaged his protective helmet. She pushed past Lord Barid to the Commander’s side.

If need be, she’d throw herself in front of him.

Alana kept her gaze locked to every nuance of expression that crossed the old king’s face.

”So you have brought her back. Do you think you have saved her?” Rajan emitted a high pitched bark of laughter. He hissed, “You are such a fool, Tarak. She will die like the others. Like your mother.” He waited a beat then continued, “You have bathed in blood for this puny alien. And all for a primitive lust! Forbidden acts! You weak fool. You were ordered to battle, yet here you stand. It is treason to disobey a royal command … Well, speak!”

“As you say Father, here I stand.”

“Bah! You have proven yourself unworthy to hold the position of Warlord and Commander. I hereby strip you of all titles! You will linger long in the cells, long enough to repent your actions.”

Tarak maintained his silence, so long even Alana’s nerves tautened to breaking point. With difficulty, she resisted shuffling her feet.
Hell, he’s good
.

“Here me well. I, Lord Tarak of the House of Rajan, decree myself the new Warlord of Darkos.”

When he spoke, his voice resonated throughout the cold building with such clarity and passion a glowing pride engulfed her.

“All those who swear allegiance will be given my assurances any past digressions will be wiped clear. But hear me well, betray my House and my vengeance will be swift and terrible.” He turned and his dark commanding gaze swept over the occupants of the chamber. “Kneel before me now and you will be spared.”

Over the encrypted frequency in her earpiece, Alana heard Magar advise all key points had been secured.

”I now hold command of Cerciron,” Tarak’s voice cut through the deep pool of silence within the chamber.

The sound of rustling clothing and shifting of boots over the hard floor could be heard echoing through the room, when the other Darkon warlords made haste to display their loyalty. Alana moved unobtrusively closer to Tarak.

She trusted none of them.

The Commander, with a gentle arm swept her behind him, again.

Bloody hell! Didn’t he realise how vulnerable he was standing there with no protective armour covering his head. He was a prime target
.

She gnawed her lower lip. He smiled at her, his lips curved with tenderness. Her insides dissolved. Her eyes pricked with sudden moisture.

She would remember him for all eternity.

“You have command of nothing!” Rajan spat.

Tarak maintained his impassive stance and Alana edged round his large form to stare at the hunched figure on the throne. There was spittle frothing at the corners of the old warrior’s mouth. She shuddered at the sight of his eyes narrowed into slits of hate.

“You need to be royal blood to rule Darkos.” His thin lips spread into a triumphant smile. He raised his hand and pointed a bony finger in accusation at Tarak. “You are neither my son nor of royal blood.”

Alana heard the collective gasps of the listening Darkons. Something painful squeezed her chest for Tarak over this latest blow. And from someone he believed his father! With cool calculation, her gaze swept round the hall again. So far no one had made any sign of aggression. To be on the safe side she kept her hand close to her weapons.

Tarak threw back his head and emitted a laugh of genuine amusement.

Alana’s jaw sagged.

Rajan jerked back in amazement.

“Never have I heard such welcome words. You cannot know how I rejoice in not being from your seed.” Turning, he ignored the Darkon leader and directed his attention to the watchful warriors. “Under my command, you will be led into our last battle. If you join with me, we will reclaim our honour as true Darkon Warriors. Together we will march the final journey to our maker and leave this world with no stain on our name.”

Slowly he raised both arms high above his head, fists clenched, his black gaze scorching the room. Magar bounded forward from the far reaches of the chamber, having arrived in time to hear Rajan’s revelation. He punched the air and roared out his acceptance. The chamber rang with the thundering shouts from the other warriors.

“Yes!” Jessamine bellowed, punching the air herself. She jabbed Alana in the ribs with her elbow.

A cautious relief inched through her body and Alana turned back to see Rajan’s reaction. The old warrior scrunched up in his chair and snarled at this show of support.

When the uproar had ceased, Tarak decreed, “Lord Rajan you are under arrest to be held for judgement by the council at a time to be determined. It may gain you lenience if you give information concerning the whereabouts of Atolo.”

“Hah!” A look of cunning sharpened the old warrior’s features. “I have nothing to say to such a weak upstart. You will pay, all of you.”

Tarak’s mouth tightened. “Officer Ulric, place him under guard.”

Alana watched with approval while guards hustled the old warrior out of the room, followed by Officer Ulric.

Over the next few hours, she remained at the Commander’s side, her respect increasing by the second as Tarak took firm control of the Darkon Empire with no opposition.

It seemed he was not alone in his distaste for the direction the Darkon people had taken and many embraced the new leadership with enthusiasm. The die-hard traditionalists were swept along by the Commander’s passionate determination. And no doubt, fear of retaliation. The idea of giving their lives in a fruitless war appealed to none of them.

Death in glory and taking as many of their enemies with them was now the Darkon warriors’ only goal.

“There has to be another way,” Jessamine hissed in her ear. “Men! This is sheer stupidity. What a waste!”

What remained of the initial band of five, now sat sprawled on chairs listening and watching in a room the Commander had taken over as a Control Centre. There were various consols now manned by Tarak’s men who were busy analysing the data floating in the air
before them. There were seven holo displays of various star systems and planets, around which groups of Darkons hovered, muttered together then dispersed to hover over the next display.

“Mmmm.” Alana drummed her fingers against the armrest, her eyes fixed on the Commander.

There was a commotion at the entrance. With arms outstretched, his face wreathed in a huge smile, Norman burst into the room.

With a squeal, Elise jumped up and ran to greet him, throwing her arms around his scrawny form. They hugged. She was elbowed out of the way by Tina, who kissed him shyly on the cheek.

“Lordy, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes!” Jessamine reached out and enveloped him in her strong arms, his smaller body almost disappearing from view.

“You are not damaged?” Norman’s three bulging eyes darted from one to the other.

Elise opened her mouth to speak but caught Alana’s shake of her head. She subsided and the other women moved aside as Alana stepped forward.

“Norman. I am so glad to see you unharmed. How can we ever repay you? The risks you took in sending out the message to the Commander.” She smiled and snapped her fingers. “They arrived in the nick of time.”

“That is good then?”

Alana laughed. “Very good.” She took his hands in hers and enclosed his bony fingers in a gentle clasp. “Always you have proven to be our good friend.”

The alien was shaking his head. “No, it is I who is thankful. You have given me such friendship as none others.”

Jessamine whipped out her handkerchief and blew her nose.

“So here we all are—together again. Well, most of us.” Elise linked arms with Tina.

“Not all for one is missing. Where is Linette?”

There was silence. Then Alana answered, “She didn’t make it.”

“That is not good,” muttered the alien. His sad gaze swept the room. He gave a heavy sigh. “The Commander now has control of Darkos. What are his intentions, Alana?”

Alana shoved her hands into her pockets, her eyes riveted to one broad back. “One final glorious battle.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Ugh! These Darkons always they think only of war.”

No one spoke.

Alana kept her eyes on Tarak’s figure, her heart heavy. She had not missed how the Darkon warriors had ceased their duties and had watched their reunion with the Jurian. No doubt they also marvelled, like Lord Barid at their affection for a species of another planet; a species considered inferior in both strength and physical prowess. Affection, love, respect—these vital elements which made up a human and were so important to her, obviously held little importance in the Darkon world. Not as important as being remembered swathed with valour and glory!

Damn him!

”Norman, do you still have the gateway map?”

The alien rubbed his hands together, his eyes brightened. “Affirmative. I hid it in a safe place when Lord Barid’s men came for me.”

“Excellent. I’d appreciate if you could go now and get it for me.”

For a moment she thought he was going to object but then Norman bowed his head. “As you wish Alana, this I will do.” He hurried from the room.

“So … you’re gonna just hand it over to them?” Jessamine placed her hands on her hips.

“Yeah at least it might give them a fighting chance.”

“Still, it won’t change much will it? I mean, if they win this battle, there’s still the Lord Liama guy to contend with and the fact their days are numbered.”

Alana shrugged. “Maybe at least they can live out those remaining days in peace.”

“But without us?”

“That’s the plan.” Alana sighed. “We can’t take the chance of falling ill like the Darkon women. I don’t have to remind you, this is not our home. This is not our world. This is alien territory. A place beyond our comprehension. Look what happened to Linette!”

Jessamine cleared her throat and continued huskily in a low murmur, “I should have seen it coming.”

“You weren’t to blame.” The guilt she saw in her friend’s eyes worried her. She caught her arm and led her away out of ear-shot of the other women.

Jessamine gave a short, harsh laugh. “No? I was supposed to keep an eye on her, keep her busy, try and get her to open up. Surely, if I’d been nicer to her, more sympathetic …” her voice trailed off.

“She wasn’t an easy person to befriend.” Alana kept her voice cool and clipped. “Linette isolated herself from the rest of us, right from the very beginning. The whole experience was clearly more of a culture shock for her than I thought it would be, her background being so very different from the rest of us. I kept on hoping she would adjust. I was wrong.”

“Yeah, well, Captain, we were all wrong. But knowin’ this we sure should have taken better care of her—given her more slack. Seems any form of violence had no place in her world and what happened on Isla sure was too much for her to bear.”

Alana let out a slow loud breath. Misery lodged as big as Uluru in her chest. “I’m just as guilty, if not more. I took on the responsibility to keep everyone safe and, bloody hell, it’s a complete fiasco.”

“It could have been worse.”

“Maybe.”

Jessamine shuffled her booted feet self-consciously. “I guess we sure don’t have many choices here, now do we?”

Alana turned her head and met the other woman’s eyes. “Unless you have a better idea?”

”You know, honey, now that you mention it.” She gave a tentative smile. “We’ve all been talkin’ about it. You know, about findin’ our way home. It’s a fairly dicey deal.”

Alana emitted a short laugh. From across the room she saw Tarak raise his head and stare at her. In a low voice, she admitted, “Yeah I have visions of us wandering around space for the rest of our lives!” She grimaced. “Still, we have to try.”

The Commander strode towards them, his eyes intent, his face stern. The force of his aura slammed through her body, revitalising her energy, making her soul sing.

“There is a long range star cruiser which is being prepared for you and the other females.” Tarak’s voice was terse. “We have made contact with a Scaleen Trader Captain. I am hopeful he will lead the voyager to a galaxy from which you may find your planet.”

For the life of her, Alana could not speak. She nodded.
So this was it
.

“How long?” Elise asked.

“Four perhaps five aons.”

“Four or five weeks, that soon!” wailed Elise.

Commander Tarak’s brow rose in surprise. He said in a voice stiff with pride, “You have been given your freedom and the means to return to your homeland. There is no future here for you. None of you.” His gaze met Alana’s.

She took a deep breath and heard the door behind her slide open. “We’re grateful. Truly we are, but we’re anxious about the journey as you can imagine.”

Norman trotted to her side. With care, he handed her the small object.

Alana in turn offered it to Tarak. “Here take this, as a gift from all of us. Norman assures me, the maps contained inside the data cube may help in your assault against the Elite Forces.” Though she had to force her smile, her voice was steady.

A sudden silence blanketed the control centre. The Darkon warriors’ attention was riveted to the small group of women.

Tarak turned the object over. “You give this to me? To the Darkon warriors who took you against your will, imprisoned you and made you endure such hardship on Isla?”

“Well, as you keep pointing out, Isla was not of your doing! No, seriously.” She enfolded Tarak’s fist over the cube. “We hope it will give you an advantage over your enemies. Perhaps give you a chance to live on, in peace. So take it. We have our freedom and will be leaving soon. This is the only thing we have to give.”

“You are wrong.” His voice sounded as if it was wrenched from deep within him. “You have given us more than you can ever know.”

“Keep Norman safe. That’s all we ask.”

Unable to bear any more, Alana swung around. Her stride lengthened until she was almost running as she hurried from the room.

As far as she was concerned, the day they left Cerciron couldn’t come quick enough.