Van Laven Chronicles (5 page)

CHAPTER 10

Dusk was upon them and Comron was guiding them away from the stream they’d been traveling along. The nocturnal creatures would most likely gather near the water, some to drink, and others to prey on them. Best to avoid them.

In the thick, sweltering atmosphere, they were both drenched through as they maintained an aggressive pace. Eventually, they reached a small clearing Comron judged to be adequate enough to accommodate two people with a modest degree of propriety. He stopped and peered out, surveying the land. Vaush pulled up alongside him breathing heavily.

“I estimate another day and a half’s travel to reach the coast,” Comron announced.

“Two more days of this,” Vaush said, catching her breath.

He glanced at her and moved off. Though he believed Vaush was innocent, he still hadn’t made up his mind whether or not this whole situation had been concocted by Larrs for some nefarious reason.

“Even if we had the means, it wouldn’t be prudent to light a fire,” Comron commented, hoping to avoid any uninvited guest.

Vaush gazed at the darkening sky. “No matter, we’ve got a clear sky and two full moons.”

Comron made no reply. He flipped the lid off his water canister and tilted his head back, taking several long swallows. He removed his shirt and poured the remaining water over his head, cooling his body. He felt Vaush’s eyes upon him, but when he looked, she abruptly turned away and drank from her own canister.

Larrs Bastionli’s daughter! he reprimanded himself, trying to extinguish the pleasure he felt at catching her staring.

He pulled a blanket from his satchel and stretched it out at the base of a tree. Vaush followed suit at the opposite end of the clearing, as far away as the space would allow. That he felt offended by this annoyed him.

He checked his wrist chronometer. Certainly by now, Crausin would realize something had gone wrong and would send a search party for him. A slight beeping noise from his chronometer signaled an incoming message. He tapped the device to view the message. Unfortunately, it was merely a reminder of an upcoming appointment. Just as he had suspected, no communications could be received or sent.

The appointment was with a design engineer for the final approval on the remodel of Comron’s new home, the Tristain Hall estate. Crausin had observed Comron admiring the property one day and thus decided to make it a gift to him for his upcoming nuptials. The grand estate rivaled the Van Laven ancestral home in many ways. Indeed, it was a property fit for a Duke, but more importantly to Crausin, it was adjacent to the Northridge Castle estate, which would make them neighbors. Comron would remain as always, under Crausin’s watchful eye and constant control.

Even his betrothal had been scrupulously arranged by Crausin, every single detail of it. He shut his eyes against the rising bitterness. I must do this to obtain the Eskridge holdings.

Love was not a factor in the betrothal negotiations, the transfer of wealth and invaluable assets was all that mattered. In fact, Crausin had gone to great lengths to ensure that Comron would never come to love his future bride.

Initially, Comron had been enraged by Crausin’s cruel betrayal, but in the end he understood that his father had simply wanted to expose Spira’s true lascivious nature before Comron had the misfortune of falling in love with her. Despite the humiliating indignity of it, the marriage would proceed as scheduled, for house Van Laven required the coveted banking deposits held by Eskridge. The grand wedding would be nothing more than the celebration of a lucrative business deal.

He touched the Oath Medallion that hung from his neck. I sacrifice myself so Nethic may gain a seat on the imperial reserve board, and from there, a place among the Great Houses. I will toast to the glory of Nethic…

When Comron suddenly saw the humanoid figures emerging from the brush, he grabbed Vaush’s arm. Was Larrs finally making his play? The two figures staggered out into the clearing wearing tattered, blood-stained clothing.

Comron glanced at Vaush. “It appears we’re not the only survivors.” Now there would be witnesses to the collaboration between Van Laven and Bastionli.

“So it would seem,” Vaush replied.

When she started to rise, Comron seized her arm. “Don’t mention our names, they may not realize who we are.”

Vaush nodded her understanding and rose to greet them. “Hello, are you injured? We have medical supplies.”

Comron recognized the middle-aged Ballarian merchant. The heavy-set man’s dark hair was plastered to his brow, his dull gray eyes were haunted and his face smeared with grime. The woman with him still wore her lavender attendant’s uniform, though the left sleeve had been torn away. Her flaxen hair was a horrendous mess upon her head, most of it having escaped the clip that normally held it secure. She wore only one shoe, the heal had broken off. Her expression was equally lost and shattered, though there was some life in her eyes at catching sight of them. Would the two new comers recognize them as well? This could be trouble.

“Oh, thank Zelo,” said the Ballarian as he let Vaush examine the gash on his forehead. “We were afraid we were the only ones who survived. We ran across a few bodies on the way here.” He shook his head. “It was horrible, just horrible.”

After saturating a strip of cloth with water from her canister, Vaush glanced at Comron. “I need to clean the wounds. I could use more water, please.”

Comron hesitated; it was one thing for him to repay his debt to a Ti-Larosian when there was no one to witness the act, but to continue working with her now was a different matter entirely.

Vaush cast him a scathing look. “Never mind.” She rose and headed off to retrieve it herself.

Comron sighed heavily and went after her. “I’ll do it,” he said, taking her canister as he moved past Vaush. Given time, perhaps there would be another way to deal with this inconvenience without incurring her wrath.
Why should I care what this Ti-Larosian thinks of me?

“I-I can help,” said the female attendant, hurrying to catch up with Comron. She peered up at him, looking a little less rattled and eager to be of assistance.

As they made their way back to the creek, Comron considered the implications of the new development. The fact that he and Vaush weren’t the only survivors gave more credence to theory that Larrs Bastionli wasn’t behind this whole mess. Was it all just exceedingly bad luck?

“I’m Halyn,” said the attendant as she knelt next to Comron, filling her canister.

Comron glanced at her. Though he mostly saw fear in those clear blue eyes, there was also something else. “Yes, I remember you from the transport. You refreshed my drink.”

She smiled sheepishly and there was the look – the look most women gave him – the one Vaush had not.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said brushing a few strands of hair from her eyes and returned her attention to the canister.

Comron glanced back into the brush and considered how simple it would be to rid himself of one of his problems.

“What is your name?” she asked, screwing the lid back on the water container.

Damn it
. “Rhence,” he replied, giving his younger brother’s name.

“Rhence,” she repeated and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

He accepted her hand and cocked a brow. “Not the best of circumstances.”

The sober look returned to her eyes. “I know…I wish I could have done more to help the others. It all happened so fast.” She shook her head and gave him a look of utter helplessness. “They trained us, but I wasn’t prepared to deal with anything like this,” she fretted.

Thank goodness you weren’t the one who happened upon me, he thought. Only then did it occur to him how greatly Vaush differed from Halyn. From the beginning, Vaush had proven herself to be level-headed, feisty and fully competent in rendering aid to the injured.

“I’m sure you did all you could,” Comron said as he rose from the bank. “We should get back to the others.” He suspected that there were many perils in this place that would lend themselves fairly well to relieving him of this inconvenience.

Vaush had managed to clean most of the dirt from the Ballarian’s face and was ready to make use of the flesh mender. Comron watched as Vaush tended to him, saw the earnest and kindness in her manner. He imagined her as she had tended to his wounds. Had there been the hint of animosity as she healed the wounds of her family’s enemy? Why had she helped him when she could have easily let him die?

“Here you are,” he said, handing Vaush the water. When she glanced up with those amazing hazel eyes to thank him, he saw genuine warmth and gratitude. Caught off guard by it, he naturally reciprocated the gesture until he noticed Halyn watching him. Immediately, he moved away from Vaush.

Resentment filled him as he found himself wishing the two had never joined them, needlessly complicating the situation. Why wasn’t Vaush equally concerned? Didn’t she fear Larrs learning of her treasonous acts?

Finishing her work with the Ballarian, Vaush approached Halyn. “That cut on your leg. We’d better do something about it before it becomes infected.” Halyn nodded and followed Vaush over to the fallen log where the Ballarian sat.

Comron returned to his bedding and sat with his back against the tree trunk. Night was falling rapidly and they would need their rest for tomorrow’s journey. Perhaps Halyn and the Ballarian could be bribed into silence. If Nethic ever learned of his dealings with Vaush, he could never hope to become its ruler. Though the confrontation had occurred centuries ago, the hatred burned brighter than ever before between their people.

By the age of five, every Nethicaen could recite the tale of how the Ti-Larosians had betrayed Nethic and left their world to be burned by Emperor Sellusion during the Unification Campaign. He recalled how Nethic had held out for months under siege, hoping beyond hope that Ti-Laros would honor their pledge-bond as they had in the past and fight alongside them. They sent messenger after messenger, calling on Ti-Laros, entreating them to hurry before all was lost.

Ti-Laros never arrived until after the last of the great Nethicaen cities was reduced to a charred cinder and their great army completely decimated. At which point, Ti-Laros surrendered to Emperor Sellusion and was generously rewarded for bending the knee without a fight.

Though Ti-Laros made feeble attempts to win back their favor, Nethic staunchly refused any aid that Ti-Laros offered to rebuild their world or to hear any of their cowardly explanations for failing to come to their rescue. Nethic finally exacted their revenge by assassinating the Grand Duke of Ti-Laros. And thus started the recriminations and cold warfare between the two, once strong allies.

But today, Ti-Laros had arrived in time to save his life despite the bitter history between them. Comron sighed heavily and glanced over at Vaush.

She was kneeling, applying the antiseptic to Halyn’s calf. Halyn jumped in fear, knocking the device from Vaush’s hand. When Vaush abruptly reached down to retrieve it, Comron heard the blast-fire whiz through the air and saw Halyn’s head snap back and splatter.

“Whoa!” Comron exclaimed as he dropped down and drew his firearm. He peered out from behind the tree wondering who the hell was firing at them.

More blast-fire erupted into the air. Vaush jumped to the ground and instinctively scrambled toward Comron. The Ballarian followed suit as Halyn’s lifeless body fell backward over the log she’d been sitting upon.

Comron dove to the ground just as two more shots hit the tree trunk, cutting it in two. Comron turned to Vaush and motioned for them to follow him out of the clearing into the brush. Scurrying on their bellies under the hail of automatic blast-fire, they hid in the thicket.

Vaush started to speak, but Comron covered her mouth and pointed in the direction from which the shots were fired. He attempted to activate the radar on his blast gun, but as he guessed, the atmospheric disturbance interfered with its operation. He’d have to shoot blind. He felt around on the ground for a stone, then slowly rose and tossed it several meters to the left. There was sudden motion up ahead and Comron reacted quickly, bringing his weapon to bear and squeezing off three rounds in the general direction.

They heard the sharp cry of pain a bit more commotion then heard the soft rumble of an engine as the assassin sped off on a single hovercraft.

“My God! Who was that?” Vaush said, peering up over the brush. “Why are they shooting at us?”

Comron clenched his jaw as he considered the question. He was certain that the shot that took out Halyn was meant for Vaush. But was the shooter only after Vaush or was she simply the first target? And where the hell did the shooter come from? Had he been a passenger aboard the transport? Comron moved off in the direction of the shooter.

“What are you doing?” Vaush hurried after him as the Ballarian remained behind in shock over the loss of Halyn.

“Hush! He might come back,” Comron said.

“Do you think this is wise?”

“You can stay back there with him.”