Training the Warrior (16 page)

Taelor jerked his head toward his sister
and growled. “Why is this male not on Fortress?”

Quaking with fear, she whimpered. “I left
six months ago to take your nephew to Fortress, but we had to divert to Turret
IV for an emergency. When our repairs ran longer, I called for another
transport. It was detained. Once a star cruiser responded, I knew we could make
it in time, but we were attacked and now…” She crumpled to the floor in tears.

“He’s out of time, Laeness.” Taelor couldn’t
look at his sister. He couldn’t even think.

Captain Galen’s voice shocked him out of
his stupor. “At top speed,
Avenger
can make Fortress in three days.”

Taelor stared at him for a few seconds
before turning his attention back to the male in the cell. The young warrior
was feverish. If he had just entered this stage, perhaps…

Taelor slid his gaze to his sister. He
tried to steady his voice before speaking. “When did his fever start?”

His deep rumbling tone made her tremble
more. When she didn’t answer, he dropped to one knee beside her. He gripped her
shoulders as gently as he could and pulled his sister up until he could gather
her into his arms. Her face dropped to his shoulder and she sobbed. Taelor
hugged her. In moments, her tears slowed and he spoke softly to her this time.

“Laeness, how many days have passed since
the fever came on him?”

“Two or three, I’m not sure. It hasn’t been
over three. I can’t lose him, Taelor. You’ve got to help him. I contacted the teachers.
They sent instructions. Please help him,” she begged.

“Quiet, sister.” He tried to soothe her. “What’s
his name?”

“Attor,” she whispered. She lifted her
face, her expression clearly desperate. “His name is Attor. Please, Taelor…”

Her lovely brown eyes were so full of hope.
He couldn’t possibly tell her what should be done. “Jarrok and I will help him.”

He glanced up at his partner, who leaned
against the cell bars, studying the young warrior. Jarrok gave him a look that
spoke volumes. He didn’t hold out much hope.

Taelor got to his feet, bringing Laeness up
from the floor with him. She was calmer now since he’d agreed to help.

“I have conditions, sister.” The statement
got her attention.

She stiffened before backing away. “What do
you mean?”

Taelor realized he was still scowling so he
tried to soften his expression for her. “I’ll only help him if you’ll leave.” As
she shook her head, he stated more forcefully, “You’re breaking rules, Laeness.
Jarrok is unmated, as am I. Protect the mated females in your entourage and
yourself. Go to your quarters and stay there. I’ll let you know how he
progresses. Otherwise I’ll end his suffering right now.”

Her eyes widened in terror. “No! You
wouldn’t do that. He’s your blood kin, Taelor.”

Losing what remained of his patience, he
snarled back at her. “That’s the reason why I’ll personally put him out of his
misery if you don’t go away. Leave us! Now!”

She nervously glanced at the two of them
before taking a long look at her son.

“Laeness?”

At his prompt, she twirled around and fled
down the corridor. After she’d left, no one spoke for a few moments. The only
sounds filling the brig were the young warrior’s howls of pain.

Jarrok purposefully shifted his weight.
Taelor understood the message. Jarrok didn’t approve of the plan.

“If I must kill him, Jarrok, I prefer to
end his life after the blading. He’s a warrior.”

Jarrok groaned, but dipped his head in
understanding.

While his partner continued watching young
Attor, Taelor turned to face the captain. “We’ll need chains and cuffs for his
legs and wrists. Water and clean linens,” he listed. “If you have a thick belt
and a strong metal bar, we could use those too.”

Captain Galen glanced toward the cell. “I’ll
send you what we have available. We left orbit just a few minutes ago, top speed.
My communications officer has transferred the packet of information we received
from the teachers to the control station here in the brig. A security officer
can show you how to retrieve the instructions. Let me know if you need anything
else.” Before heading back to the bridge, the captain gave them a heartfelt, “Good
luck.”

Taelor hoped for luck, but he’d form a plan
just in case it failed.

* * * *

“Have you noticed his line tattoo?” Jarrok
leaned against the bars once again, still scrutinizing the young male.

“No,” Taelor answered distractedly. He
measured lengths of heavy chains.

It was impossible for them to build a rack
like the ones in the citadel, but the teachers had sent a diagram detailing how
chains could help anchor a young male in a way to help him. Leverage was the
key. To wrench out his blades for the first time, a young warrior needed a way
to use his entire body weight. Taelor frowned at the illustration and then
studied a vacant cell. His frown deepened into a full-blown scowl. There were
no attachments for the chains along the solid walls or on the deck. The
ceilings were completely bare. The illumination in the brig came from recessed
lighting in the corridor ceiling. The cell bars seemed to be their only option.

“Laeness’ mate is Degron from one of the
scientific clans, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Taelor’s answer came out as a
clipped bark. He grew tired of Jarrok’s questions and was ready to start
assembling the chains. “Help me.”

Together they attached two of the chains to
the highest cross bar, well above their heads. That accomplished, Taelor tossed
one set of heavy metal cuffs to Jarrok.

“Fasten one cuff through the end link on a
chain,” he explained while performing the task on the other.

With two chains, two available cuffs,
Attor’s wrists could be secured easily. How to anchor his body was Taelor’s
next challenge. At the moment, all he could come up with was grabbing the young
warrior around the waist and pulling him down. It could work, he convinced
himself. Messy but effective. The rest of the chains could be used to restrain
Attor after the blading. The instructions were a little vague about what came
next. Taelor knew full well what had to be done. He just hoped there was an unmated
female in his sister’s entourage who was willing to help out.

“I noticed your nephew’s sire is from a
military line. Looks like Shevron, one of the high council members,” Jarrok
said. “Took me a while to remember the name.”

“Hmm?” Taelor responded, trying to divide
his attention between the task at hand and his partner’s ramblings. Attor’s
moans and howls added to his distraction. His sister better appreciate what…
Taelor pulled up mid-thought. “What?”

“About time you paid attention.” Jarrok
sneered at him.

Taelor stormed out of the empty cell and
barreled into Attor’s. The young warrior was passed out on his back at the
moment, panting heavily. His large body was sprawled across the floor, naked
except for a plain sarong wrapped around his hips. The line tattoo on the right
side of his chest was clearly visible. Taelor studied the bold design inside
the circular blood-line, a shield emblazoned with a bolt of lightning. It wasn’t
Degron’s and it certainly wasn’t from any of the sciences.

Jarrok was right. Attor’s father was from
Line Shevron. The line was very powerful, not only on the high council but
throughout the empire. What Laeness had done hit him like a planetoid colliding
with a sun. How could she? And then he realized how old she must have been. It
hadn’t occurred to him yet. In Solar Prime years, he was thirty-five. She was
three years younger than him, making her thirty-two. Attor was sixteen now,
which meant Laeness had only been twenty-two at the most when she had…

Taelor threw back his head and roared. His
sister had barely entered her breeding years when she had conceived Attor.
Sheer outrage poured from him. He charged out of the cell and ran down the cell
block. He pressed the panel control to unlock the brig door, then pounded on
the thick metal as it slowly glided open. He raced to the lift and growled
impatiently while he had to wait. Once it finally opened, he stepped inside and
stabbed his finger at the controls, hitting the call switch. A few seconds
later, he knew where she was on the ship—deck three, room ten.

He stood outside the door to her quarters
and snarled while taking deep, long breaths. He had to calm down. What was done
years ago couldn’t be changed. In his mind, he knew he overreacted, but the warrior
in him wanted to rage and strike out. He pounded on the door, ignoring the call
button.

After the door opened and Laeness appeared
in front of him, he shouted, “How could you let Mother talk you into contracting?”
His sister shrank back from him, fearing his anger. He stalked after her as he
entered the room.

“Brother, you’re wrong about Mother.” She
stumbled as she retreated. “I contracted because I felt duty bound to do so.”

“Duty? You created a child out of duty? Why
did you feel this?”

“Don’t stand there and tell me you haven’t
done things out of a sense of duty. I know you fight and kill for your clan,
Taelor!”

“All warriors swear an oath to protect our empire
from all enemies, sister. We don’t create younglings to unite our lines with
others. Contracting is a barbaric practice that breeds infighting among the lines
and clans. How could you do this?”

His sister scrambled away and ran behind a
table to keep her distance. Apparently feeling safer behind a piece of metal
furniture, she straightened tall and proud. “Counselor Haden is nearing
retirement and his only son, Jorven, has no male heirs. You know all members of
the high council must have sons to take over when they retire and the sons must
have living male heirs in order to qualify for the seat. Line Shevron has never
been unseated from the council.”

He snorted at her explanation. “So you used
your body to try to give Jorven a son? How did that work out for you, Laeness?”

“You’re a beast, Taelor!”

“And you birthed a beast just like me.”

“I hate you!”

“No, you don’t! You love me and your son.”
Since childhood, her accusations of hate always amused him, although it did
make fighting with her difficult.

“Fine! Just stop yelling and growling at
me.” Her lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

Taelor turned away and stomped over to a
long couch. He slumped down and made himself comfortable before scowling at
her. Laeness stayed put, using the table as a shield. He wearily hung his head.

“Was Attor your only contract with Jorven?”
His words were softer, not spoken in anger.

“Yes, but when Galina came of breeding age,
she contracted also.”

Taelor groaned, wishing he didn’t have to
hear any more. “And?”

Laeness shrugged. “You have a beautiful
niece.”

He smiled at her answer. “Did anyone have a
Tauran son for poor Jorven?”

“Our Mother’s sister’s daughter had a son.
His name is Vendron.”

His head hurt. “So another counselor has royal
blood in his Line. Do you truly think this is a good thing?”

“Taelor, Line Shevron is powerful. If they
lose their position on the high council it could shift the balance of power.
The economic clans are aligning with the merchant clans, trying to gain more
influence on the council. Taura Major has always supported the military clans.
Galina and I did what needed to be done.”

Taelor grunted as he stood. His sister
sounded like their Mother. He sighed and turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the brig. One of Jorven’s sons
needs my help.”

“Attor has your blood too, Taelor.”

He walked out of the room without another
word. His sister was right. Attor was his blood kin. More important, he was warrior
born. They were clan brothers. He’d do his best to help him one way or another.

Chapter Nine

After Taelor returned to the brig, he found
Jarrok stacking mattress pads about three deep on the floor in one of the empty
cells. Several boxes of rations and water were shoved against the wall. The
cell next to Attor’s was equipped in a similar manner. Apparently, his partner
prepared for a long siege.

Attor was still passed out on the floor of
his cell. His huge body twitched occasionally. Taelor made a mental note to try
to find a pillow and blanket for his nephew. He tried to remember his own
blading. No images came to mind. There had been too many years and too many
battles since his time at the fortress compound.

“How long has it been since you checked
him?”

Jarrok grimaced, sending him a look of
disgust. “His skin is dry and still hot to the touch. We need some medical
support, agreed?”

“Agreed!” Taelor grinned. His partner wasn’t
talking about actual medical supplies. He hinted they needed a few stiff
drinks. “I’ll alert the galley.”