Chloë (14 page)

Chloë
laughed at Heather as she groused at their prepared lunch.  It was a
gorgeous and well-prepared meal with everything one could have expected from a
private court lunch.  The problem was the timing: their new lodging had a
local time offset by several hours from that of the apartment in the shipping
container.

“You
figured they could have slowly rolled clocks during our trip,” groused Heather
as she wolfed down her food.  “It was supposed to be dinner time…three
hours ago…”

“Well,
it is
lunch
now,” grinned Chloë as she daintily enjoyed the lavish
display.  “You should be delighted—that means you get
four
meals
today.”

Heather
cocked an eye at Chloë curiously and then broke out laughing.  Good! 
Chloë needed to hear Heather laugh!

“So
what do you think about our odds of getting off this rock?” asked Chloë
seriously.

“First
off,” began Heather, “I have no clue, none whatsoever, if there is even a
starship in dock that could take us somewhere.  Second, and most
importantly, it is highly probable that this room is bugged.”

 
Chloë gritted her teeth at the obviousness of the statement; if she had been
bugged back at the palace, odds were even stronger that they were bugged here
as well.  “Crap.  So what do we do?”

“Apparently
not a whole lot today.  Maybe if they let Raymond come by this evening, at
least we’ll have someone civilized we can talk to.”

Chloë
nodded, “And he has a reasonable chance of at least knowing what Reinhardt may
be planning, or not planning.  Either case is useful information.” 
She paused and thought a bit.  “You like Raymond don’t you?  There
were far easier ways to shut him up than kissing him,” teased Chloë.

Heather
grinned and her ears flushed.  “Well, he is a nice guy.  He
tries
to do the right thing.  He’s just in an awkward position.”

“And
it doesn’t hurt that he’ll probably get knighted if he can help us escape.”

Heather
shrugged, “Never even thought about that.”

Chloë
laughed, “Oh, so you really
do
like him!”

Raspberry! 
The both laughed at that.

A
lazy afternoon soon gave way to evening.  Chloë and Heather walked their
new lodging several times learning the ins and outs of the complex.  It
was a gorgeous and fabulously furnished dwelling.  The only dark cloud was
their obvious captivity: locked windows and guards at every door.  Chloë
laughed to herself at the security, a well placed chair would make short work
of the locked windows, and she was positive Heather could force her way past
the sentries.  The problem, of course, was they had no idea if there was
any available transportation, and Chloë doubted she could figure out the
controls on a given ship even if they had the chance.  Heather made no
pretenses about being able to pilot a ship; all the buttons looked the same to
her.   That left Raymond as their best hope for a sympathetic
pilot.  While Chloë was unsure if Raymond would try to take them back to
Bevrik III rather than back to Afon, he could at least be convinced or
cajoled.  The same could not be said for their present captors.

Chloë
racked her brain as she tried to stir up anything she could on Reinhardt or the
Province of the Beyscones.  Geographically she knew
of
the
Beyscones, and she knew that it had passed back and forth between several of
the principalities over the centuries, but she had no clue where they stood in
modern politics.  More importantly, she didn’t know if they were for a
unity government or if they preferred to remain part of the old network of
principalities.  Every few generations there had been talk, and war, of
unifying various principalities into a larger centrally controlled
empire.  It seems that all the great houses liked the idea of an empire;
the centuries-old question, of course, was which house would take the title of
emperor.  There had been a bloody war just before she had been born that
had brought the force of arms to that very question.  The war had weakened
most of the lands, but somehow Chloë’s father had actually come out on
top.  And now with war’s hideous reminders still stirring in the collective
consciousness, back room alliances and politics were the tool of choice. 
Chloë’s ears burned at the thought, but she was a tool for her father. 
Most of her life she was just scared and lonely at that thought; now it just
made her angry.

Chloë
smiled at Heather and at Heather’s inner strength.  There, in one giddy
girl, was everything she had wished for herself: a loving family full of life,
siblings, strength, independence…   In just a few short weeks,
Heather and her family had taught her so much about what life could be. Life,
far away from the palace.  A simple life.  Not a life without
responsibilities, heavens no!  But it was a life that was open and honest,
uncomplicated by lies and subterfuge. 

Llewellyn
Stratford of clan Silverglade.  Baron, she laughed as she reminded
herself.  Heather’s father was a baron over three broad dales and
respected far beyond.  While her own father laid dominion over ten times
as much area and a thousand times as many people, there was a strength of
character that Llewellyn had that her father totally lacked. 
Dominion?  Hardly!  The dales were run by a network of villages and
cities each run by a mayor, not the baron. 
Female
mayors! 
Llewellyn’s title and responsibilities were all about protection of the
realm.  There wasn’t even a hint of meddling in politics as Chloë knew
them.

“Heather,”
asked Chloë suddenly, “um, Raymond was very worried about your father and what
he might do.  I mean, he seems so calm, would he really… well…”

“Go
ballistic?” finished Heather.  “Most assuredly.”  She turned and
grinned at Chloë, “I noticed you’re not using his name.”

Chloë
nodded, “Well, you went out of your way to silence Raymond, so I figured I
ought to remain discreet.  We still don’t know if we are being spied
upon.  But seriously, your dad, he seems so nice and calm.  Silly
even! He just doesn’t seem to be the sort that would make Raymond so nervous.”

Heather
nodded as she chose her words carefully.  “He is my father first and
foremost, and he will do whatever it takes to protect his children.  He
may not like what he did after the fact, but in his mind those are his wounds
to carry: safety of the House is foremost in his mind.  My eldest sister
was kidnapped back when I was three.  That went very poorly for the
kidnappers.  Very!  The only differences this time around are that he
now has even more friends who would be willing to help, and that he will come
for us both.”

“He’d
put his life on the line for me?” asked Chloë surprised.  “I’m a stranger
brought into your house.”

“Yes,
but you were
brought into the house
.  First Mother granted you
sanctuary, end of story.  Father takes over from there.  As far as
Father is concerned, you are, for all practical purposes, my sister and thus
his child.”

“Um,
your First Mother just kind of took me in.  It’s not like he agreed to
anything so drastic.”

Heather
laughed.  “He didn’t need to agree to anything; First Mother already
had.”  She stretched as she tried to explain.  “It is a
family,
a unit.  Everyone trusts everyone else.  If someone is unsure, they
will talk to the other adults, but if someone knows something is the right
thing to do, they will just do it.  When a Highlander talks about a
family, a House, they don’t do so lightly.  I mentioned before: all the
Mothers treat every child as if she had given birth to each of them. 
Every Mother there would also lay down her life for any of the children. 
My father’s biggest job is to make sure they never have to make that
decision.  And there is precious little that I wouldn’t do for my parents
or my sisters!   That includes you!”

Chloë’s
ears flushed at the comment.  “Um, thank you.  That is the nicest and
most noble thing anyone has ever told me.”

“No
problem,” grinned Heather. 

They
both suddenly went silent as a bell chimed and they heard movement at one of
the doors.

“We
have visitors,” murmured Chloë nervously.

“Well,
let’s go see who it is,” replied Heather calmly.

Chloë
took Heather’s hand as they made their way downstairs and to the formal
entryway.  Standing there in the atrium were three guards, two dinner
attendants with carts of food, and Reinhardt and Raymond.  Heather bared
her teeth at Reinhardt as they approached.

Reinhardt
recoiled mildly from Heather’s display; it was very obvious he was not used to
being around strong willed and independent women.  “Good evening, my
Ladies,” he offered diplomatically.  “I have taken up your request and am
permitting Raymond to eat dinner with you this evening.  We will come by
to collect him at nine o’clock.  Do enjoy your dinner, but don’t try to do
anything rash: the Shukurae guards will be taking over in half an hour and I
doubt they will be impressed by… your dental work.”  He turned and smartly
marched back out the front door with the guards in tow.  A quick close of
the door and click of locks reminded all involved of their situation.

“The
dining room is this way,” began Chloë politely.  “Feel free to deliver the
food and then depart.  We will happily serve ourselves.”

The
attendants nodded with some appreciation; this wasn’t their normal day job,
that was obvious, and they had little interest in getting involved any more
than they had to.  Three minutes later, they had laid out the meal, many
items still on their warming trays, and they made their way back out of the
complex.

Raymond
eyed Heather nervously, “Um, so what is the plan, Lady Heather?”

Heather
just laughed as she started to serve the first course to the three of them,
“Eat, silly.  What else do you do at dinner time?”

“First
and foremost we need our strength up.  Especially if Heather turns this
into a ‘party,’” offered Chloë.

Raymond
nodded nervously but graciously accepted the food offered.

“So,”
began Chloë, “running under the assumption that this room is bugged and we must
all be diplomatic here, do you know what Reinhardt is up to?”

Raymond
nodded, “You are most certainly correct, my Lady, that the room is bugged, but
to answer your question, I’m not entirely certain.  The Beyscones were not
involved in the last… altercation, but I do know that that province has been experiencing
strong economic growth.  I can speculate, and speculate only, that there
are ambitions to consolidate some of the nearby realms and form a new
barony.  Doing so would be touchy, but your father’s influence could
easily make that happen.”

“So
you don’t anticipate that he has ambitions beyond that realm?  He’s not
trying to shake my father’s station?” asked Chloë.

Raymond
thought carefully, “I doubt it.  Elevating Reinhardt to baron would shake
some trees, further than that would be violently opposed.  However, if
your father did elevate him to baron, that would increase your father’s
influence there in the south and would also help Reinhardt in the courts. 
The more that I think of it, the more I think both would be served well by such
a move.  Assuming Reinhardt is planning well in advance, I do not think
you need to worry about him making unsolicited advances to you.”

“By
that you mean that my children might become part of the
next
political
ploy,” countered Chloë.

Raymond
nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.  Rising above baron would shake too many trees
in one generation, but future alliances…”

“Would
you please have the dignity,” began Heather eloquently to the point of sarcasm,
“to dispense with the crap.  They are
not
alliances; they are
unwanted and unsolicited marriages.”

Raymond
nodded, “I am sorry about that.  There is always hope, however, that
various parties would approve of the marriages.”

“Alternatively,”
began Chloë, “it could be that we choose our own alliances at our level rather than
having the previous generations decide that for their own purposes.”

“Well
spoken, my Lady.  But there are generations of cultural norms that will
need to be addressed.”

“You
mean there are generations of cultural norms that will be needed to be redressed,”
corrected Chloë.  “And we know how well these norms served the previous
generation: how many died in the last great war?”

“War,”
offered Heather.  “Just war.  There are no great wars.”

Raymond
nodded, “There is a human saying that I still recall from the academy: ‘It is a
good thing that war is so terrible, lest we become fond of it.’“

Heather
smiled at Raymond before turning to Chloë.  “See, I told you that buried
under all that posturing was a good person.”

“Great,”
grinned Chloë, “so does that mean you are going to kiss him again?”

Dinner
lazily meandered by and the evening started to grow late.  Darkness had
already consumed the complex and soon it was going to be time for Raymond to
leave.

“Ten
‘till nine,” beamed Heather as she suddenly looked over to Raymond.  “So,
can you fly?”

Raymond
suddenly was taken aback.  “Yes, Lady Heather, I can pilot a great many
ships.  But have you seen their evening guards?  They are those
hideous Shukurae!   How would you expect us to get past them?”

Heather
frowned at Raymond.  “They are
wonderful
Shukurae, get that right,
and I expect them to escort us.”  Heather sprang from her seat and started
down the hall to the entryway, “Come on everyone.  Now is not the time to
dally; I’ll need help talking to them.”

“Talking
to them?” asked an exasperated Raymond.  “We cannot hope to bribe
them.”  He quickly found himself being left behind and had to
unceremoniously bolt from the table to keep up with the two girls.

Heather
pounded on the door and the guards outside bellowed back.

“They
say it is not yet time, that escorts will soon be arriving,” translated Chloë.

Heather
grinned as she stuck out her tongue, “I do wish I had learned all those
languages like my big sister.  But I know just enough of theirs to be
dangerous.”  She pounded on the door again and bellowed back,
“Taleus.  Bealu taleus!”

Chloë
racked her brain as she tried to place the language, “Um, what did you say?”

“I
asked for protection.   Dad taught me just enough of their language
to keep me safe,” grinned Heather.  “So long as they are a mainstream
group, this will get fun.”

Chloë
was uncertain what Heather had in mind for ‘fun’ but was surprised to find
herself staring at two massive Shukurae as the door suddenly burst open.

Heather
bowed and repeated, “Taleus.  Bealu taleus.”

The
Shukuare snarled, bearing their massive array of shark-like teeth.  One
barked back at Heather before cycling through languages back to where Chloë
understood.

“He
wants to know who is requesting protection and why this should run contrary to
their assignment.”

“Tell
him I am Heather Stratford of the Highlands of Afon.  Also tell him that
you were granted sanctuary by my parents’ house and you too request
protection.  We were both kidnapped from the planet Afon.”

Chloë
parroted back what Heather said only to find herself cowering behind Heather a
split second later as the Shukurae guards bellowed out in rage.  One kept
his eyes on the trio while the other bellowed in its native tongue over a
commlink.

“Oh,
that was
quite
helpful Lady Heather,” replied Raymond
sarcastically.  “I think you made them mad.”

“Mad
was the plan,” grinned Heather.  “But at whom is the question.”

A
small group of Shukurae thundered over.  One, with a blue pauldron, glared
at the trio and fired out, “Who is the Highlander?” in a crisp and somewhat
scary rendition of the Old Tongue.

Heather
bowed, “Line Centurion, I am the Highlander.  I am Heather
Stratford.  This young lady with me, Chloë Amsterval, has been granted
sanctuary by my First Mother’s House.”

The
Shukurae glared at Heather looking her up and down.  “Stratford.  I
have known members of that house.  Are you Dawn Stratford’s daughter?”

“No,
ma’am, I am Dawn Stratford’s sister,” Heather replied evenly.

“You
were taken by force?”

“Yes,
ma’am. We were drugged and then kidnapped from an Altshea city that bordered
the Highlands.”

The
Shukurae stared at Heather up and down again.  Outside, quite a commotion
had erupted as more Shukurae as well as local guards swarmed their
location.  Finally things came to a head as Reinhardt and a pair of his
regular troops approached.

“What
is the problem, Line Centurion?”  bellowed Reinhardt.  “Your orders
were clear: keep them contained.”

The
Line Centurion drew herself up to full height, “What are the names of these
people?”

Reinhardt
scowled, “That is none of your concern.  You and your troops were hired to
do a job.  I expect you to abide by your contract and perform your
duties!”

“Who
are these two girls?  Under what conditions were they brought here?” she
bellowed back.

While
Reinhardt was, in theory, in charge, fear suddenly swept him and his fur stood
on end.  “It is not your business; your business is to keep them
contained!”

“They
accuse you of taking them from the planet Afon by force.  How do you
answer to that?”

“My
business is not your concern, Line Centurion!  You will do…”

It
took a moment for Chloë to resolve what happened, it went by so quickly, but it
all began as one of Reinhardt’s guards pulled a sidearm.  That proved to
be a fatal mistake.  Heather acted next as a brilliant arc of blue sparks
erupted into an elegant sidesword and effortlessly bisected the offending
weapon.  There was a half a heartbeat pause before the nearest Shukurae backhanded
the bewildered guard so hard that Chloë was certain his neck had snapped.

The
Line Centurion glared at Reinhardt, “Your man drew on me. 
Unacceptable.  By making us party to an unlawful kidnapping you have
violated Section 4, Paragraphs 7-9 of our contract.  To that end, we now
consider your contract null and void.  We are leaving now and we are
leaving with our new charges.  I would advise against trying to stop us.”

Advice
comes in many flavors.  Often people say free advice is worth exactly what
was paid.  In this case, it was not free advice: one had already paid with
his life.  Reinhardt, however, was used to getting his way and no advice,
however useful or pragmatic, was going to stand in his way.  “Protect the
girls, cut down the monsters!” bellowed Reinhardt as he ran from the door.

Chloë
thought it spoke volumes of Reinhardt that he had quickly outrun his own troops
in retreat.

Revenge
on his mind, Reinhardt’s remaining guard brought his weapon to bear with
practiced form.  This time it was Raymond rather than Heather who acted as
he leaped from the man’s blind side and stripped the weapon away.  The
Shukurae, now in full motion, quickly dispatched the unarmed guard and directed
the trio back inside as a full-fledged gunfight erupted outside.

With
the doors slammed shut, the Line Centurion turned to Heather, pointed to
Raymond, and asked, “And what of him?”

“His
name is Raymond.  He is a palace guard.  While Chloë’s father and my
father are at odds, he
will
protect Chloë,” replied Heather.

The
towering Shukurae glared at Raymond.

“I
will protect the ladies, both of them, with my life, if needed,” replied
Raymond answering the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Suddenly
Heather screamed and swept the leg of one of the Shukurae sending him to the
floor.  For her action, Heather received the brunt of the attack that
would have otherwise killed the warrior as her own Live Steel armor burst into
being and soaked a tremendous energy blast that had effortlessly pierced the
door.  She howled out in rage and pain as she held her ground.

The
Line Centurion grinned broadly as she swept past Heather and returned fire
neatly through the hole in the door.  “You are a Highland girl of much
strength.  We thank you, now let us finish the fight, little one.”

Heather
nodded feebly as she doubled over.  Raymond carried her deeper into the
building with Chloë close behind.

“You
didn’t have to do that,” muttered Raymond as he tried to sit Heather in a chair.

“I
couldn’t just stand there and let that guy get shot in the back,” retorted
Heather as she fought through the pain and tried to regain her composure. 
“If I was better, I would have been able to shield us both.  I’m just not
that good.”  There was disappointment hanging in Heather’s voice.

“You
are a sixteen year old girl,” reprimanded Raymond.  “You are not a
professional soldier and no one is asking you to be one.  Your gamble paid
off; Reinhardt’s troops are totally outclassed out there.”

“See,
Chloë,” offered Heather as she desperately clung to consciousness, “the
Shukurae are a wonderful group of people.”

“Honest
and noble,” agreed Chloë tearfully as she watched Heather pass out.  “Is
she going to be okay?”  Chloë asked with panic in her voice.

“She
has no real physical injuries,” observed Raymond.  “Her mind was
overloaded with pain.  She should be fine once she has time to rest. 
The armor of the Highlanders is hard to crack.  Had her armor been
stripped from her under the weight of that blast, then I would be worried for
her.”

Suddenly
the Line Centurion and five other Shukurae burst into the room.  She
melted in a way that Chloë didn’t imagine was possible upon seeing the
unconscious form of Heather. “How bad are her injuries?”

“Her
system was overloaded with pain; she should recover well if she can sleep,”
offered Raymond.

The
Line Centurion knelt and carefully caressed Heather’s form like only a mother
could do before offering, “I am Line Centurion Watzkel.  I promise we will
get all of you safely out of here.”  She offered a feeble laugh. “That is
if you stop trying to help.”  She kissed Heather on the head before
standing, stretching her great form, cueing her radio and barking in her native
tongue.

Chloë
just stood there with Raymond, holding Heather and watching the world around
them.

“If
I am following them correctly, they have routed most of Reinhardt’s troops in
this area, and the gunfight has now shifted towards the dock and the remaining
ships,” offered Raymond.  “I’ve not had to follow their language since I
was in prep-school.”

“You
are fundamentally correct,” offered Watzkel over her shoulder.  “The
concern now is to ensure that all the transports are not damaged.”

“If
things go wrong, we could be stranded?” asked Chloë.

“Only
for a week to ten days, Lady Chloë.  Just in case, we have already
initiated a distress signal on the Shukurae networks,” offered one of the other
guards.  “LC, I don’t like this…”

“Neither
do I.  Set off a DEMP grenade in the sitting room and then move them in
there.”

The
warrior wasted no time as he plucked an odd looking grenade off the back of a
fellow soldier and tossed it into the next room.   Chloë wasn’t sure
what she had expected from the grenade, but a high-pitched shriek followed by a
very faint, almost comically faint, ‘pop’ was not it.

“That’s
it?” she asked as the Shukurae herded them into the sitting room.

“It’s
an electro-magnetic pulse weapon,” offered Raymond as the pair carried
Heather.  “They do seem kind of anticlimactic don’t they?”

Chloë
nodded with simple understanding.  “So it fried any electronics that might
have been in the room without blowing it to bits.”

“Precisely,”
replied Raymond.

“I
want another blueberry muffin, mama,” murmured Heather in her sleep.

Chloë
laughed out loud. “Even in her sleep she still thinks of food!”

“That
is a good sign,” replied Raymond.  “It means she’s just tired.”  He
leaned over and gently kissed Heather on the forehead.

“You
like her, don’t you?” teased Chloë.

Raymond
offered a feeble grin. “She thinks more highly of me than I think of
myself.  That is refreshing.”

“Just
be careful about the ‘fresh’ part,” laughed Chloë.  “You remember who her
father is, right?”

“A
man who raised one heck of a daughter.”

Chloë
had an arsenal of other quips to fire back at Raymond, but that just didn’t
seem right.  Not now at least; save those for happier, simpler
times. 

Suddenly
a new Shukurae burst into the room and bantered with Watzkel.  She turned
and fired, “Can you three ride?”

Chloë
was confused, “Ride what?”

“Ride
on their backs,” interjected Raymond.  “The two of us can make do, but we
aren’t leaving Heather behind!” he barked back to the Line Centurion.

“If
we get her in the straps, can you ride with her and keep her from falling off?”

Raymond
thought for a split second, “If you think riding is the best way out of here,
then I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

“Excellent
answer.”  She waved in another Shukurae and directed the two newcomers
over to Chloë, Heather and Raymond.  They turned and knelt revealing an
elaborate series of straps on their back where the other soldiers had been
carrying extra weapons and ammunition.

Raymond
pointed out the obvious stirrups and the pair quickly sorted out which were the
hand holds.  Chloë climbed onto the soldiers back and he stood and shook a
bit.  Chloë found the handholds held well. “I think I can do this. 
What of Heather?”