Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) (3 page)

“It’s not fine. How can you say that?” Tahj replied, sounding like a little boy, the tears running down his face now.

Ignoring his remark, the queen appeared to gather her strength to speak again. She seemed to have something important to tell him before the darkness swept her away forever. “You have to get out of here.”

As if coming to a sudden decision, Tahj argued as he shifted to pick her up. “Not without you, I’m not.”

“No, son. Son.” She moaned, and, frightened he had hurt her, Tahj set her gently down again. “My time is over, but you must flee.”

Tahj shook his head vehemently, sniffling. “No!” and then again, with calm resolution, “No.”

“You have to go.” With surprising swiftness she reached up to clutch his tunic, opening her eyes and saying earnestly, “But promise me you’ll come back someday and set things right, for your father.” Her gaze trailed to the bed. With what little strength she had left she shook him and demanded, “Promise me.”

Tahj lowered his head, fighting to suppress his sobs. “Yes,” he managed after a few seconds, lifting his head to gaze into her eyes one last time. “I will, Mother.” He brushed her hair back, accidentally wiping some of the blood on his hands onto her forehead.

She didn’t move her eyes from his face, but they became unfocussed. She lifted her trembling hand, blindly reaching for him. “Go now,” she said, her voice a choked whisper, and then her head tipped back a fraction, lips still parted, but the life fading from her open eyes.

Tahj wept bitterly, saying over and over again, “No. No.”

Radeem squatted down beside Tahj. He opened his mouth as if to say something, perhaps wanting to offer some words of comfort. Seeming to find none to suffice, he remained silent. As Tahj looked on, Radeem’s gaze shifted to the dead queen’s features. His tears fell on her motionless face, and Tahj recalled she had been much like a mother to his friend when they were young. Radeem reached up slowly to close her eyes.

In a flash, Tahj grabbed his hand. Saying nothing, his face still contorted in pain and damp with tears, Tahj looked at his friend beseechingly, and then once more at his mother. Tahj placed a quivering hand over her eyes and closed the lids with care. He sniffed, becoming slightly more composed, but continuing to stare at her.

“Tahj.”

He looked up.

“Your mother’s right, we have to go. They’ll be looking for you.”

Tahj nodded stiffly. She was gone. Carefully, oh, so carefully, he shifted so his legs were out from under her body. He cradled her back and neck in his hands and slowly lowered his mother to the floor. He stood, still staring at her.

They could hear shouts in the distance. Radeem lifted his head, a sense of urgency returning to his demeanor. Grasping Tahj’s elbow, he nudged him toward the door, repeating, “We must leave here. I’m sorry, Tahj, but we have to escape before they come.”

Tahj shook himself, as if waking from a dream. He glanced at the bed, but he didn’t really need a reminder of what he saw there; it was burned into his psyche forever. Blindly, he turned and followed Radeem out the door. They jogged along, Radeem talking about his strategy. “We’ll take the side door to the stables. If I can get you on Balamore before they see us, he’ll outrun any mount.”

Tahj nodded, but his mind was rewinding through the discovery of his father’s body and his final moments with his mother. He heard Radeem’s words remotely, but they didn’t register in his besieged mind. They reached the little-used door leading out to a courtyard, across from which was the royal livery. Radeem cracked the door and peered out. Sunshine pushed inside, and Tahj wondered that it could be daytime when such dark and horrendous deeds had been done within the walls of the palace.

“It’s clear,” Radeem said excitedly, but Tahj was rehearing his early statement.
They’ll be looking for you. They’ll be looking for you.

The girl!
Tahj thought in alarm. He spun and started running in the opposite direction. Radeem turned, and then in shock began to call after Tahj, but ended up biting back his words, perhaps thinking it unwise to alert anyone to their presence. He shook his head and started after Tahj, muttering, “Where in the name of Airyaman are we going?”

CHAPTER THREE

Bashea sat dumbfounded as the dark-haired stranger took off, leaving her alone. He seemed different from the others, his warm, brown eyes so sincere. And when he touched her face so gently, she almost melted. After the blows the others gave her, to have someone touch her in such a way made her want to cry. He told her he would be back to free her, that she was safest where she was, but Bashea wasn’t taking any chances. He seemed nice, but she wasn’t about to wait around to find out for sure.

Feverishly she worked on her bonds, using teeth, now the gag was out, to loosen the knots. Even so, the cords were tied so tightly they were digging into her wrists, which were chafed and bleeding in some places. She cried as the efforts caused her further pain and tears fell on the ties, wetting them, though she only became more determined. After several minutes she felt the fabric slip and give, and within seconds more, her hands were free. She sighed with relief and indulged herself for a moment by gingerly rubbing the cuts and raw skin along her wrists before moving on to her legs. In only a few short minutes, after removing her shoes, Bashea had that scarf loose enough to slide her feet out of the loop. Without hesitating, she got to her feet, throwing the hated scarves across the room and stretching her sore muscles experimentally.

Bashea was in such a hurry to leave, she barreled right into the six-foot-eight behemoth waiting for her on the other side of the door. He held her scarves to his nose, inhaling, having picked them up from where she had thrown them, just outside the door. With a shaved head, the man was easy to recognize, and her stomach dropped. He was one of Boltar’s men. With an evil chuckle, he threw the scarves behind him and picked her up by the arms.

“I hoped you’d still be here, and I was right.” A wide grin played on his face as he pulled Bashea in to smell her hair. “By the gods, you are beautiful.” His voice was deep and gruff. With very little effort he tossed her the few feet onto the bed.

Bashea bounced off, right into his massive arms. She frantically attempted to squirm out of his grip, but, try as she might, Bashea had little effect on his bulk. She couldn’t get away from him, and her blows hurt her hands more than his body. “Release me!”

“You can scream all you want, Beautiful One, but anyone who would have helped you is dead by now. We will have some fun now,
Ziba
.” He laughed heartily, kissing her neck.

Bashea recoiled, panic seizing her.
This won’t happen again.
Reacting instinctively, she turned her head and struck with the weapon she’d used to untie her scarves.

“Aaargh!” Throwing Bashea on the bed again, he brought his meaty hand up to his neck. “You bit me!” He cursed her as he rubbed the tender spot.

Bashea tried to scramble across the bed, but she felt hands seize her ankles, dragging her back. She clutched at the covers, but they only came with her.

Her attacker flipped Bashea onto her back like he was flipping the pillow to the cool side. “You’ll pay for that,” he snarled ominously. He raised his hand and, before she could react, cracked her sharply in the face with his open palm, making her cry out in surprise and pain. Swiftly he moved forward, trapping Bashea’s legs with his lower body and growling down at her. “Why don’t you just relax? I know you enjoyed it when I had my turn last night because you calmed down.”

Tears stung her eyes but they blazed with hatred. “Don’t mistake my being exhausted, or passing out, for being aroused. I hated every minute your cur-like hands were on me!” she spat.

“Really?” he replied as if disbelieving her. “Well, we’ll just see about that, won’t we?” He whipped off his jacket, and Bashea sat up and began flailing at him with all she had left in her, though she knew from experience it was useless. She refused to be complacent. If it was the only thing she could do, she would let him know with every last fiber of her being she detested him.

* * *

Tahj raced through the hallways, Radeem skidding around corners in his wake, huffing and puffing. Though he was a full head taller and barrel-chested, Radeem still had a tough time keeping up with his less bulky friend.

When he reached his door, Tahj found it was open a few inches. He burst through the doorway, and the first thing he noticed was the scarves the girl had worn lying on the floor of his parlor in a heap. He heard a man’s voice within, and then the girl’s, rising in pitch.

“Don’t mistake my being exhausted, or passing out, for being aroused. I hated every minute your cur-like hands were on me!”

Tahj felt himself seized with a white-hot fury.

“Really? Well, we’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

Tahj drew his sword, but just as he did, he heard an outer door open and a familiar voice say dryly, “Down, Mahtab.” Radeem entered behind Tahj, drawing his sword, and they crept forward, Radeem moving to the side of the doorway opposite Tahj. “Release her!” the voice barked, angered at not being listened to the first time. Radeem’s eyes opened wide. It would seem that he, too, recognized the voice of Lord Boltar. The pair listened intently, trying to still their breathing, both to hear better and to keep from being heard.

Tahj stepped up and peered through the doorway, keeping well back from view. Boltar walked into Tahj’s line of sight, his red robes swishing. A hulk of a man stood pinning the girl’s arms behind her, unnecessarily, as she stood perfectly still, eyes wide, watching Boltar but giving no heed to the other men who had come in the door from the outer courtyard with their leader.

“She was, ooohmmm, a pleasant distraction,” the grand vizier said smoothly, running a finger up the girl’s arm and sucking in his breath. He paused a beat, staring into her eyes wordlessly before adding, “Wasn’t she, men?”

There were low murmurs of agreement and sniggers. The girl’s face was red, though still determined. She shivered.

Boltar chuckled mirthlessly. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that…
now
.” The emphasis on the last word was a clear threat. The girl bristled at his touch, her whole body visibly tense, strung tighter than any of the sitars that ever played at the king’s court. Abruptly Boltar’s attitude changed. “Where is the prince?” he asked, his voice snapping like a whip.

Radeem and Tahj exchanged worried glances. Tahj peered in again, counting. Just the two of them against…six of the others, if you only counted the brute holding the girl as one.

“Who?” the girl asked, her voice trembling despite the firm set of her chin.

Without warning, Boltar backhanded the girl so viciously she almost flew out of her capture’s grip. In the stunned silence which followed, the grand vizier rubbed his long, thin hands, studying them and seeming to admire the large ring he wore. “The prince,” he said casually, as if exchanging every day pleasantries, “where
is he
?”

The girl turned her face back, a new cut opened beneath the previous one, no doubt left by the ring, her skin fire-red. “I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes were wild now. With a swiftness unexpected from a man of his age, Boltar punched the girl in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

Tahj jumped forward, but Radeem rushed across the threshold to push him back behind the wall again. They both froze for a minute, but apparently everyone was too busy watching the action within to notice Radeem when he crossed in front of the doorway. “We can’t help her. There’s too many of them,” he hissed, his arm across Tahj’s chest, pinning him in place.

“Let go of me,” Tahj whispered loudly, his voice covered by the groan the girl made as she sagged to the ground and was again yanked to her feet. “I’m not going to just let them beat her.”

Boltar took a step forward, yanking the girl’s head up by her hair. “Now, you tell me where the prince is—” He drew a dagger. “—or I’m going to carve your pretty face up.”

The girl glared at him. She was breathing heavily. “I d-don’t know where your…p-precious prince is. And even if I did—” she paused, straightening her spine a little. “—I wouldn’t tell you if my life depended on it.”

Boltar screamed in rage and lunged forward, bringing the tip of the knife to the girl’s neck. She gave a little squeak, but then closed her eyes, her face tense, but with a sense of resignation. A thin line of blood trailed down her neck where the point nicked her.

Boltar hesitated, seeming surprised by the girl’s bravery. “Very well, then.” He switched his grip on the knife and drew it back to bury it in her heart, but as he did so
he lifted his head a little, turning it a fraction in the direction of the doorway.

With a cry, Tahj and Radeem entered the room brandishing their swords.

In a heartbeat Boltar hauled the girl to him and spun so he was behind her, with the knife to her neck.

“Release her!” Tahj ordered. “It’s me you want, Boltar. She has nothing to do with any of this.”

Boltar eyed him with a sneer. “True. But she’s such a pretty thing.” He squeezed the girl tighter, pressing the edge of the blade into her skin.

“
Stop
! Stop!” Tahj gazed into the frightened girl’s eyes for a beat, and then held his hands out wide, loosening his grip on his sword. “My life for hers, then,” he said desperately. “That’s a fair exchange.”

Boltar studied Tahj, his eyes steely. “But why would I do that, when I could have you
both
!” Without warning, Boltar pushed the girl roughly away from him toward Tahj. She stumbled forward into Tahj’s arms just as Boltar made his move.

But Tahj was expecting the grand vizier’s thrust and quickly brought his sword up to meet it
as he wrapped his other arm around Bashea’s waist. Using a trick Kadeesh had taught him, Tahj jabbed. With a neat twist of his wrist, Tahj sent Boltar’s dagger up and over his head, where it clattered to the floor behind the bed.

In the next seconds, several things happened at once. Boltar’s men rushed forward, but, weaponless, he moved out of the fray. till holding Bashea around her waist with one arm,] Tahj countered assaults with the other, his sword clashing noisily with two soldiers at once. Radeem quickly took one soldier out of play and had another one back on his heels.

Boltar watched from the back of the room expectantly, like a dog waiting for a bone, but he clearly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing. One of his men slashed at Tahj, but the girl screamed a warning, and they both ducked just in time as the sword whizzed over their heads. Before the man could correct his balance, Tahj scored a deadly blow to his midsection. He released his hold on the girl to strike at his next attacker with a two-handed grip, and she backed away to the outskirts of the fighting, looking on just as Boltar was but undoubtedly hoping for a different outcome.

Tahj dodged a blow and jumped up on the bed to gain advantage. Boltar stealthily retrieved his dagger, hoping to bury it in Tahj’s back while he was occupied. But just as Boltar was getting ready to position himself, the huge form of Mahtab blocked his path. Tahj was able to finish off his man, but wasn’t ready when Mahtab grabbed him from behind by the seat of his pants and collar. He threw Tahj right into Radeem. The two fell like a pair of dominoes and then looked up from the floor at the hulking figure towering above them, casting a shadow on their alarmed faces.

“This isn’t good,” Radeem muttered.

The big man above them stepped forward and grabbed Tahj’s sword out of his hand, tossing it aside like a piece of lint. Radeem
struggled to get his sword out, as it was trapped between his body and Tahj’s. Mahtab bent down and grabbed Tahj by his collar, but, unnoticed by anyone, the girl had climbed up on the bed and now catapulted herself onto the beast’s back with a shout, wrapping her arms around his neck as tightly as she could.

But even this didn’t stop the brute; he saw it as a mere annoyance. The girl cursed him, digging heels into his sides and jerking on her arm to pull it back across his thick throat, trying to put pressure on his windpipe. It did provide a distraction and, as he brought his hands up to try to pry the girl off, he dropped Tahj. He managed to pull her arm away and reach around with his other hand to grab the girl’s waist and throw her off. She landed heavily by Radeem and Tahj’s side.

With a roar, Mahtab dove for the girl, intending to teach her a lesson for the last time, but he never laid a hand on her. With a mighty swing, Radeem sliced right through the big man, and his body fell at the feet of the terrified girl whose screams now filled the room. She brought her hands,
H
splattered with Mahtab’s blood, up to try to cover her eyes and remove the horrifying image she just witnessed.

Boltar ran out of the door and into the courtyard, shouting for reinforcements. Hearing the sound of
soldiers’feet pounding outside, Tahj knew they only had a few seconds.

“Come on.” He grabbed the girl’s arm and dragged her to her feet. She looked up at him in shock, and he tried to reassure her. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He crossed to the door and drew the lock to the outside courtyard. “That may buy us a little time.” He looked at Radeem, who nodded. Tahj turned to the girl, scrutinizing her to make sure none of the blood on her was her own. “Are you hurt?” She stared at him without speaking. “Have you been injured anywhere?” he repeated. She shook her head slightly. “Come.” His voice was tender as he took her elbow, and they turned and followed Radeem out the front door.