10
(Silnaday)
Çtarest Retreat
.
“Dad,” Hergil Kulun called from his post at the HPS station.
“Yes, Hergil?” Fain asked as he joined his younger son.
“Look at this chatter.”
Fain looked over his shoulder and read the intercepted messages about a couple of fugitives leaving Irola without authorization. He felt the first glimmer of hope since the previous night since he learned of his wife’s death and his daughter’s disappearance. Tears blurred his vision. “What do they think?”
“A man and a woman traveling together, cloaked… they shared a cabin on the boat. It’s not likely to be Hrista, is it?”
“I don’t know,” Fain said, hoping against hope. “She hasn’t had a boyfriend for at least a year, as far as I know… but things like that can change quickly. Did they say anything else?”
“The Empress has ordered the arrests of the fugitives on the hoverbus to Omrill.”
“Hrista would know to come this way,” Fain said. “Anything more about the man?”
“He is thought to be the leader of T.R.A.S.H.”
Fain grinned. “She would choose her company well!”
“The Empress wants him dead. Wouldn’t that endanger Hrista?”
“Yes. But if anyone can take care of her, it would be Issyk. She’s safe for the moment.”
“But if they kill Issyk?” Hergil asked, looking concerned.
“They’re not likely to kill Hrista,” Fain said, knowing that the most likely fate for his daughter would be as a bride for one of the Empress’s men. It was a truth he would not share with his son just yet. No need for them to go rushing in and getting people killed. Hrista would live – that would have to be enough for now.
“Father, there’s more you’re not telling me,” Hergil said. “Hrista will be okay, won’t she?”
“Yes. She is a survivor. She will survive,” Fain replied, hoping he sounded convincing enough.
♥
Approaching Chalða
.
The magna-cuffs chafed Hrista’s wrists as she was squeezed against Kjane, another man on the other side of her. The man’s leering gaze and lustful countenance worried her, but she tried to push her fear away, leaning her head against Kjane’s shoulder instead. His head rested against hers, but he was unable to put his arm around her, having also been cuffed before being shoved into one of the police hoverbils.
Hrista wondered about the police being able to be bought.
“Don’t insult me!” the man next to her growled. “Unless you’d like to find out what I can do to you.” His roving eyes made it obvious what he meant.
Hrista said nothing, but cleared her mind, realizing he was gifted enough.
“You had us fooled,” the man said. “Had your lust for each other not been so clearly broadcast, you would have got away for sure.”
Hrista felt saddened by the fact.
<Don’t listen to his poison,> Kjane projected to her. <I love you, my darling wife.>
She let her mind think about his words, not thinking about her desire for them to be true. Maybe keeping up the charade would allow them to be together until the very end… whatever that end might be. She shuddered.
She wished she was able to project to him the same way.
<I will teach you tonight,> he promised.
If he was still alive, she realized fearfully.
“Report!” a voice said over a PCS link.
“Your Imperial Highness!” the man in front replied. “We have the fugitives. Where shall we take them?”
“Cooldown in Chalða,” the woman replied without emotion.
Hrista felt Kjane’s hatred for the woman burn. <That woman is guilty of many deaths. She deserves no love, no respect.>
Hrista took the knowledge on board, having never followed politics very closely. She nuzzled her cheek against Kjane’s shoulder wondering what the next hour would bring.
♥
Chalða Cooldown
.
“One room or two?” Thorsa asked.
“We only have one available,” Oleana replied, entering the room mentioned. A large bed was the only furniture besides a HPS that would let them catch up on the news of the plague, but not contact anyone outside of Cooldown.
“Won’t Grandmother be angry?”
“Why?”
“She will want to give the woman to one of her men, right?”
“Of course. But it won’t hurt anything if she’s already bred,” Oleana replied. “Maybe we’ll keep them a few days to make sure of it.”
“But won’t that make Grandmother angry?”
“Not really. The woman will be made easier to handle if she’s already with child. Then we have time to make her ours. The child will be gifted – and raised Balan – all the same.”
Thorsa nodded.
“You have already conceived his child,” Oleana reminded. “Why are you jealous now?”
“He loves her… in a way he will never love me.”
“I’m sorry, my child. I will find you someone who deserves you… soon. Perhaps when we deliver Issyk’s girlfriend to someone who needs her...”
Thorsa smiled.
“She won’t have him for long. That is your revenge.”
“Thanks, Mother.”
Oleana looked around to make sure the magna-locks were in place and in good condition. She pressed her hand upon the one on the door to set it to her imprint. Thorsa followed suit. The windows were sealed similarly. Even in the good days for the A’mara, there were few who were able to break a leya-imprinted magna-seal. And now, there were few A’mara.
Oleana’s final check was to make sure there were clothes, toiletries and that the larder and chiller were both full of food.
If you have enjoyed this book, I would be grateful if you could put your thoughts as a review on [Goodreads](coming soon) for me.
Buy at: Books2Read
Other chapters of stories about Decima...
Decima: Ground Zero - chapter 1
Decima: One Mission - chapter 1
Maps and Guides
Apothecary Kit, Dec 2019 - part of the kit of a good healer
Map of Kranisis
This book takes place on Irola.
Çtarest is also mentioned. That is the giant mountain that forms the border between Çtaráña, Shayanda and Ubre'in.
Writing and artwork copyright myself 2005-2105 – all rights reserved.
If you are interested in helping me publish these works, please contact me on Facebook or Discord, viking-ventures#2883.
Lori Svensen
author/designer at A'mara Books
photographer/graphic artist for Viking Visual
(Buy my work at RedBubble, TeePublic, PicFair and DeviantArt.)
verified author on Goodreads
(Buy my books at Books2Read and at LBRY)
find me on Twitter
Join The Best Natural Health Community on Hive
