Passion of the Different (23 page)

Chapter Thirty Three - The King

The large group of men in the distance all wore bright Elerian steel armor and had built an impressive looking roadblock. Ryan halted his wagon at the parameter and grinned when the various men gawked at his size when he stood, then hopped down. Myra stayed in her seat, any fear she first felt at seeing an armed troop ahead evaporating when she recognized her countrymen.

The roadblock consisted of sharpened logs and bales of hay stacked on the ends, flanked by more than a dozen armed men. One of them stepped forward when Ryan walked up and stated in a normal tone of voice, "Halt and be recognized."

"Idiot," another of the soldiers barked at him from behind the logs. "Can't you figure it out? Nobody else is that big."

Unfazed, the soldier regarded Ryan with an expected look. The big guy knew the type. Loved his job and the perks that went with it, so he decided to have a little fun and grinned.

"I'm a woods demon and you're in my way," Ryan politely explained, keeping his baritone low on purpose.

"What?" his challenger retorted, taking a step back while the impossibly huge man chuckled.

"Don't do that to them, Lord Za'Ryan," Myra pleaded from the wagon seat as he wore a humorous grin. "If he believes you he'll have nightmares for weeks."

A bark of laughter from the men behind the logs followed that remark, and Ryan waved off the moment while asking politely, "So this is the border? I'd like to go home, let us pass please."

The fellow recovered with amazing speed as he nodded in agreement, but corrected Ryan's guesswork over where they really stood. "Most certainly, Lord Za'Ryan. So you know, this is the
new
border. The old border is about fifteen miles behind us. King Vorjon Zast'Hirame took a large chunk of land from Queen Darya as punishment for the raids and the kidnapping of a citizen. I take it this is the lovely lady?"

"That she is," Ryan told him, and Myra smiled while blushing at the same time. "Fully rescued along with two new citizens in the back of the wagon." The fellow looked blank for a moment and he finished explaining to the soldier's surprise. "Our two children."

"Very nice," the soldier complimented, and his comrades behind the works labored to take down some of the pointed logs so the wagon could pass. "You won't find any Sanego dogs past this point, so it's a safe trip. Still, would you like an escort the rest of the way to see the king?"

"We were heading for Ocaza," Ryan explained, a moment of confusion crossing his face.

"Exactly," another of the soldiers said, walking up now that his portion of the work was done in clearing the way. "King Vorjon Zast'Hirame has been in Ocaza with an army of around forty thousand men since the first day of summer. It's a perfect base for cleaning out the raiders and like we said, we have a new border now. We intend to keep it."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Ryan told them all as he climbed back onto the wagon. "I can make it there without an escort. Stay safe, alright?" He flicked the reins and the wagon lurched forward. They saluted him with a clenched fist over their heart and he returned it as they trundled past. He had wondered many times when left to himself what was going on in his adopted homeland, what kind of reaction there was to the incident if any. He knew Vendegal had sent the kidnap note with a report to the king, but this kind of action wasn't what he expected.

Nor did they expect to find what was happening when they approached their farm. A little more than two thirds done, stone cutters and laborers of all kinds were building a significantly larger stone home where the wooden cottage had stood before. The road they needed traveled past the bustling construction site on the way to Ocaza and they had prepared their hearts against seeing the ruins of everything they accomplished together. Instead they were greeted by an expensive looking project that would make any baron blush with envy.

"What's going on here?" Myra asked one of the workers as he walked by, who stopped and suddenly recognized them.

"You!" he told Ryan, who looked mystified. "Don't mind us here, my lord and lady. We're just following orders and rebuilding this here place. Stone can't be burned like wood, you know," as if that explained everything. Then he was off with his tools and other workers only paused long enough to glance and grin at them, then continued their trade.

Myra shrugged at Ryan helplessly when he gave her a puzzled glance. He flicked the reins again and headed down the road to Ocaza. He was only about a mile from the town when they saw the tents. Forty thousand men were too much for the place to hold all at once and the tent city was a testament to their military precision. Set up in large square blocks, they looked orderly and well maintained. Smoke from hundreds of campfires curled upwards all around them.

While the city roads were packed with citizens and soldiers going about their daily routine, he was recognized and word got out that he was in town. It didn't take long for Vendegal to find them and wave them over. "Park it by the mayor's mansion," the garrison commander told them happily. "I'll see to it you're announced. I take it you two been by the old farm?"

"Yes," Ryan replied, curiosity getting the better of him. "What is that all about out there?"

"It'll be explained soon enough," Vendegal promised, grinned happily. "You two are a welcome sight, my friends. Much has happened while you were gone and I'm not qualified to steal the thunder from my own king by spouting the news."

"As long as he doesn't mind kids, we can go straight there," Ryan told his friend, grinning back.

"Kids?" Vendegal blinked. "More than one?"

"Twins," Ryan clarified, puffing up his chest. "A boy and a girl."

"Well congratulations to you both," Vendegal replied, mollified. "The king loves children, but this isn't the time and place for that. I'll arrange for a couple of excellent nannies to help out, he'll want to see you both as soon as possible. Now let's get this wagon parked and out of the way, there's a lot going on." He wasn't kidding, the throng of people started to build the moment he paused to talk to Vendegal. While the townsfolk were somewhat used to Ryan, the soldiers that were part of the army were not. They packed together to get a good look of his size and height, the murmur of their hushed conversations growing.

True to Vendegal's word, soon after they parked and entered the mayor's mansion, two capable looking nannies cradled both babies with an adoring expression. They took them off to one side but didn't walk out of the sight of either parent. A few minutes later and the audience chamber doors opened. A long table filled with nobles looked out at them and a richly dressed man stood at their head and beckoned them inside.

"Please come in," Vorjon Zast'Hirame said politely, his large amber eyes taking in Ryan's appearance with only a small amount of surprise. "While I didn't expect to meet either of you this soon, the honor is all mine." He nodded and waved them forward, a silver crown sitting atop his light red hair. It reflected random sparkles from a small diamond outline with the slightest movement.

Ryan instantly liked him. The nobles made room at the table and they took the offered seats while Vorjon remained standing. His smile was infectious and good natured. The polar opposite of an evil queen, he realized with relief. He worried silently to himself the king would be another ruthless sounding monarch who would give decrees and not care for much of anything else. Glad those misgivings were unfounded, he responded with obvious respect in his best modulated baritone, "Thank you, your majesty."

Startled for a moment at the depth of Ryan's voice, he chuckled and recovered well. "Now that's a sound to strike fear into those Sanego bastards," he complimented the big man. "Now down to business. Lord Za'Ryan, have you yet been informed of your promotion?"

Now it was Ryan and Myra's turn to look startled. "No," he replied quickly. "We've only been here for a short time."

"Good," Vorjon exclaimed, happy he was the one to tell him first. "Learning of Avrohom's treachery through Darya's diplomat, you've been given his office of the Ocaza Tax Collector. This had a two score effect," he explained to them all carefully. "One, it meant that Darya was now holding a government official and she had to treat you far better than tossing you into some dungeon." He paused to see if Ryan added to that, which he did.

"That explains the surprising amount of good treatment all of a sudden," he told the king, who nodded as the big guy finished talking. "She's petty and demanding, like a spoiled child. I was half expecting to be beaten or tortured for cooperation and that would explain why she didn't go that route. And thank you, your majesty, for such insight and help from afar."

"Don't mention it," his commanding tenor resonated with respect. "The title was more than help, it's made to stick. The office is yours for good, since Duke Haz'Bolian has spoken highly of your intelligence." Haz'Bolian toasted Ryan from his position at the table and earned a grateful grin back. The king continued, "That part aside, there's the second reason for such an appointment. Darya's diplomat said you killed Avrohom with a dagger through his throat. Is this true?"

There was a murmur among the nobles but Myra didn't look worried at all. In fact, she looked at her husband with something close to worship. "Yes," Ryan replied, keeping his voice as normal as possible. "I stole his escort's dagger and threw it. He died while choking on his own blood and I laughed at him. It seemed fitting since that was the fate he said I was to suffer."

"I see," Vorjon said gravely, looked at all the assembled nobles. "Keep in mind that Lord Za'Ryan was not yet promoted when that happened. Killing a government official is a serious crime here. Since he has a valuable office
after
the crime was reported, I say his punishment is to be limited to time served in Darya's dungeon. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" the nobles all shouted at once.

"There," Vorjon announced with obvious relief. "Now I can reply to that bitch that her complaint over losing a spy to one of my citizens is punished and settled. More importantly we won't have to lie about it." Ryan fought back a sudden laugh, but the king noticed and remarked on the situation. "I know, if dealing with state matters wasn't so serious it would be downright hilarious sometimes. We royals of all the surrounding lands keep a traditional sense of honesty with each other no matter how rotten one gets. And by having you both here now, I don't have to concede to anymore of her demands for your safe return. Any questions?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows and things were much clearer to him now. He turned to his wife. "Honey, anything
you
want to ask?"

"What's happening out at our farm?" she carefully said, and the murmurs from the nobles up and down the table were respectfully soft.

"That was my idea," Vorjon told her without hesitation, shooting her a smile of acceptance. This put a look of amazement on Myra's lovely face. Nothing to do with the farm and everything to do with Ryan's prompting her to speak. The king was being highly kind to address her directly. "An enemy force torched your home, I didn't care for that. I ordered it to be rebuilt of stone and made twice as big. With your husband's new rank, you'll have no problem hiring servants if you wish it. Anything else, Lady Myra?"

"Oh my," she stated, then grinned. "No, your majesty. Thank you." The amount of favor shown with the king continuing to speak directly to her almost made her swoon. Her people highly favored men over women when it came to official business, at first she was at a loss as to why they would so openly accept her involvement. Other women in the past who dared to speak in men's affairs were escorted out and scorned for a long time, but not here and not now. Could it be they made an exception for her because of her husband? She wasn't sure, but she loved it and hoped such a special status wouldn't end anytime soon.

"Then the day's business is concluded," Vorjon announced and spread his hands before the table in respect. "The army pulls out by the end of the week. We'll be doing heavy patrols along our new border until winter starts and we'll resume them next summer. Let them try to make a fuss of it. They'll quickly wish they never got out of bed
that
morning. Adjourned."

Everyone rose to leave and Myra grabbed Ryan and hugged him hard. He returned her affection gladly and nobody minded one bit. Their lives changed for the better after almost being taken away from them for good. He had his family and they had him. Life was sweet that day and he couldn't argue. His heart looked forward to loving his sweet wife for the rest of his natural life.

Chapter Thirty Four - Oh Hell No!

The rest of the summer went by without incident from Queen Darya or her people, which was a pleasant bonus after such a traumatic incident. Winter settled in and the large stone house was easily warmed with no chill in the air. Becky and Ruvian started to walk around nine months old, to Myra's amazement, and exclaimed that children never progressed that fast among her people.

Summer arrived and Ryan went out without guards and collected the local taxes for King Vorjon Zast'Hirame, vowing to himself he would never shackle a soul for lack of payment or resources. Nobody had any problem paying that year, the soldiers spending coin from the king's army had boosted the local economy. The heavy patrols never ran into problems from the Sanego and any response from Darya over Ryan's own subterfuge never materialized.

When the second week of summer started and he and Myra finished planting their first crop, thunder sounded in the distance. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the clear blue sky. Storms weren't popular in this region and most of their water came from underground streams, fueled by the melt off from the winter snow as it filtered down through the soil.

"I don't understand," Myra said out loud, shielding the sunlight from her lovely lavender eyes while gazing at the horizon. "I've never heard thunder last that long before. Now it stopped."

"I can't place it," Ryan admitted, carefully watching the sky as he put his shovel up against their barn. "Somehow it seems familiar, honey, but it doesn't make sense to me either. Let's go in for now and rest up, we've been at it in this heat for too long."

"You're right, dear," Myra agreed. "I can get dinner started a little early and keep the kids entertained for a bit." They loved watching her chop the food up and cook the various vegetables.

Just as they sat down for dinner an hour later, a heavy knock landed. Looking puzzled at each other, it was Ryan who got up and answered the front door. Two tall forms stood there and his mind reeled. Recognition flared. More memory painlessly surged forward, but as before, only what was before him got labeled with new words and names, but no depth to their history.

The man and woman had on silver and blue padded flight suits. They both had raven black hair and they were his height. They had his type of ears. Both of them also had radio communicators attached to those ears and the woman touched the transmit button.

"Alpha leader, we found him," she said, but not in the Elerian language. He understood them easily and suddenly knew they were speaking English. "It looks like Sergeant Ryan has gone native. Repeat, he has gone native."

The man gave Sergeant Ryan a serious frown. "What were you thinking? What's the matter with you?" he demanded in English. He lowered his tracking unit that had been focused on Ryan and switched it off with the flick of his thumb.

"Honey," Myra said quickly as she appeared by Ryan's side. "Who are these people? What are they saying?" Then she recognized their features as his own, and suddenly fearful, Myra clutched his powerful arm possessively. All he could do was stand there, a look of shock and amazement on his face while trying to sort out all the new information that seemed to flow erratically across his thoughts.

The radio beeped and a third voice demanded in angry English from the tiny speaker, "What's the level of contamination?"

Before the woman could transmit a response and while Ryan couldn't get past his current bewildered state, Becky and Ruvian took up a position beside each of their father's l
eg.
Becky held onto his pants pocket while Ruvian sucked his thumb. Both toddlers regarded the strangers with an innocent gaze.

She didn't press the transmit button, but her response was enough for Ryan to understand that something very bad had happened and he had no idea what it meant at the moment. Her voice was startled, filled with dismay as she regarded the kids. "Oh hell no!"

To Be Continued In Passion Of The Same