Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (34 page)

BOOK: Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance)
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She took a thin knife, like an old-fashioned scalpel, with poison or more drugs smeared on the blade, from a tray of instruments held out by a priestess. This handmaiden’s left arm hung limp, most of her hair missing, revealing a shiny swath of burned skin. She coughed heavily, shaking the tray she was balancing.
 

Lolanta’s priestesses aren’t going to outlive me by much. They’re all in varying stages of radiation sickness.

The queen chanted, the syllables discordant, ominous.
 

He closed his eyes and sent an urgent message.
Now would be good. I’m strapped down and she has a knife.

Lolanta cut a shallow slash in his neck with the blade. Warm blood flowed immediately.
 

Opening his eyes in pain, Nate watched her catch his blood in a translucent-green stone cup. She sprinkled a pale powder into the goblet and drank the hideous concoction in one long gulp.Lolanta hurled the vessel against the side of the altar near his head and uttered what sounded like curses. Jagged fragments of the broken pottery struck his chest and face, leaving small cuts here and there. Reeling unsteadily, she grabbed a heavier knife from the instrument tray and placed her other clawed hand on his breastbone. Biting her lip as she concentrated, she cut his shirt open from collar to hem, leaving his chest bare. Nate stared unflinchingly into her eyes. Her one pupil was huge, dilated, probably from the drug she’d taken with his blood. Lolanta opened her mouth to taunt him again, but an imperious command from Bithia rang across the platform.

“Stop this hideous travesty at once. Touch him with that knife and you die.”

“You wish to say something, T’naritza?” She lifted her deformed left hand from his skin and carefully laid the heavy, curved, black stone knife on the tray.

Bithia’s beautiful tones carried well in the clear night air. “Let him go, Lolanta. I won’t allow you to sacrifice my man to your evil, false god.”

“And why not?” the priestess asked, tilting her head to the side and raising her eyebrows. She pivoted to face Bithia. “He bleeds as easily as any other man. I’ve proven his vulnerability. His heart will surely be as pleasing to Huitlani as any other warrior’s. There must be an offering tonight. It’s the eve of the red moons, you know.”

Nate realized Bithia stood on the altar platform, glancing at him quickly to reassure herself he lived before she locked eyes with Lolanta.

“There’ll be a death as tradition demands—your life will be forfeit tonight for all your crimes,” Bithia said.
 

Nate realized she wasn’t holding a weapon.
How could Thom let her walk up here unarmed?
Where the hell is he?

Ambushing her guards at the perimeter of the temple. Stop distracting me.

Totally focused on Lolanta, Bithia didn’t even glance at him.

Two of the uninjured guards from the squad assigned to bring Nate to the altar had been circling ever closer as the women talked. Now the pair of thugs made their move, seizing Bithia, holding her tightly by the arms. Nate fought the chains holding him in place and cursed.
 

Bithia seemed unconcerned by her capture, or by their rough handling. “Think carefully about what you do here. Release me, leave this place now and you can live,” she said to the men.

“Empty threats from one worshipped with the paltry gifts of flowers and candles. Let me deal with your lover, and then you can take his place.” Lolanta glanced at the tray held by the trembling, coughing acolyte. The high priestess took her curved knife again, caressing its carved handle. “We waste too much time. Now that you’re here, as I knew you would be, foolish T’naritza, we can get on with the death of this man before the moons reach their zenith.”

“I don’t think so.”
 

Nate blinked. Either he was hallucinating, or a green nimbus was slowly surrounding Bithia, glowing much like the curtain in the healing device had done. Flares of green light mixed with red sparks spurted off into the fading late afternoon sunlight. Her luxurious mane of blue and lavender hair spread out in the air like the corona of a miniature sun. The burly men who’d been so triumphant at capturing her moments ago, now dropped their hold on her as if her bare skin had scorched their hands.
 

Perhaps it did.
Who knows what this unexpected power of Bithia’s can do?
 

Screaming in pain and fear, the guards shook their hands, now blackening and withering, and retreated, stumbling and falling across each other as whatever power Bithia wielded took lethal effect. Nate heard panicky yelling as the remaining participants attempted to flee before Bithia attacked them.

Clutching the knife in her fist, Lolanta whirled, raising her arm to deliver the stroke that would kill Nate.
 

Bithia snapped out her left arm, the one ringed by her gilintrae, fingers open, palm up. A sizzling bolt of the green and red light flew from her fingertips to engulf Lolanta before she could complete the motion.
 

Nate focused on the queen’s distorted face. She dropped the knife onto the altar beside Nate, striking him a glancing blow in the side. Reeling, Lolanta staggered under the assault of whatever weapon Bithia had launched at her. She fell to her knees, yelling curses, writhing in the grip of the unearthly flames. A small explosion scattered sparks in the twilight, and the fire died sluggishly, leaving an oily black residue on the altar platform and no other sign that Lolanta ever existed.

Bithia rushed to the altar, taking a moment to reassure herself Nate was unharmed for the most part, before trying to locate the release mechanism for the shackles.
 

Thom came rushing across the platform as the shackles fell open with a snap. Nate struggled to rise with their assistance.

“Report?” he said as he gained his feet.

“The other priestesses fled. I let them go—they appear to be dying,” Thom said. “Took me so long to get here because I was picking off Lolanta’s guards stationed at the base of the temple, the ones lying in wait to ambush us again. Got a bit complicated, but we’re good.”
 

“You’re in no condition to ride, and it’s getting dark fast,” Bithia said to Nate. “We’ll have to shelter here tonight.”
 

“Not here. I want to leave this damned place.”
 

“There ain’t exactly any good choices,” Thom said. “We don’t know this territory, and she’s right—you can’t sit a kemat tonight. Seven hells, give yourself a night to recover.”
 

“We’ll be gone at first light—be sensible,” Bithia said as they made their way toward the temple entrance.

“Hold up, let me do a recon.” Weapon in hand, Thom moved ahead to ensure no one was left hiding in the structure.

“There was something on the knife blade, some kind of drug. Making me lightheaded.” Nate leaned on Bithia, unable to keep walking without Thom’s strength to support him. “No more argument from me.” He accepted the plain fact that he had no strength for descending the temple stairs, much less staying in the saddle while in search of a more congenial campsite for the night.

“Not a pleasant place, but empty,” Thom reported, positioning Nate’s arm on his shoulder so they could continue into the temple.

Together, Bithia and Thom got Nate to the open space inside the entrance, retrieving the torch from what had been his cell. After helping him recline on Thom’s cloak, Bithia cleaned the neck wound as best she could with water from a well at the rear of the building, binding it and the slash in his side with strips from her skirt. “I’ve done as much as I can for now.” Bithia sat with Nate’s head in her lap, gently running her hand through his hair.
 

“Didn’t I tell you to ride on and leave me?”
 

Not at all abashed, she smiled, shaking her head. “And you believed your best friend and I would of course do this foolish thing? Abandon you to Lolanta’s knives merely because you ordered us?”
 

“The worst moment of my life was when I realized you were standing there on the platform and I couldn’t do anything—not one damn thing—to help you.”

“I know. I had several of the worst moments of my life tonight too. But now we’re past it, and she’ll never trouble us again.”

“How did you work that? With the gilintrae? I thought it wasn’t a weapon.”

“You must be recovering fast if you’re thinking about the technology again,” she said. “You and Thom, so interested in everything my people developed and used.” Relenting a bit, she added, “I enabled a last-resort, self-defense capability, draining nearly all the remaining power to inflict the burns on the men holding me and cast the bolt at her.” She raised her wrist, and Nate realized the gemstones along the rim of the massive bracelet were barely flickering.

He touched the now lifeless jewels, then looked into her face. “I’m sorry.”
 

She shrugged. “Don’t be. I’d rather have your life. Besides, a low level of power remains. I won’t lose any stored data.”

“You strong enough for company?” Thom asked. “Friendlies?”

“Why?”

“Atletl and Celixia are climbing the temple stairs, backed by a squad of soldiers coming this way.”

“A little late, but I appreciate the gesture of support.” Nate gathered his energy to rise.

Bithia protested. “You’re still woozy.”
 

Gently but firmly, he removed her restraining hand and worked his way to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall. Thom watched, ready to step forward and help if needed. Fighting vertigo but on his feet, Nate said, “I want you to be the goddess one more time. I want you to be majorly impressive here, like you were on the road with those refugees we saved. Have you got enough power left to dazzle them?”

Eyes wide, she retreated a step, rubbing the gilintrae. “What do you mean? Why must I play the T’naritza role for Atletl and Celixia? Our allies know the truth about T’naritza.”

“Atletl’s soldiers don’t. We owe it to him and Celixia to reinforce what they’ve undoubtedly told the Githholz leaders—you’re the goddess, Huitlani is finished and Atletl played a major role in the victory. Part of my goal is to leave this planet with a chance to grow in a more civilized direction after we go.” Nate finished with gritted teeth, nausea racking his gut.
 

“This kinda plays hell with the Sectors cultural noninterference regs, don’t it?” Thom asked as an afterthought.

“Objection?”

“No.” The answer was prompt, crisp and cheerful. “I like the idea. Probably ought to leave it out of the report, though.”

“Reporting is the least of my worries at the moment, but thanks for the reminder.” Nate laughed.

“I see.” Bithia studied her plain blue dress. “I’m lacking in grandeur at the moment, but I can coax perhaps one more effect from the gilintrae’s reserves.”

“Good.” He turned to Thom. “Tell them we’re coming out to address the troops.”

He saluted and left the room.

“All right, then.” Nate took Bithia by the hand as if they were going to dance. “Ready, T’naritza? One last performance?”

She motioned for Nate to precede her through the short corridor. A faint green glow enveloped her, not as spectacular as the killing nimbus she’d deployed against Lolanta, but probably effective enough for this occasion, especially in the twilight.

Githholz soldiers now crowded the altar platform, and more were gathered on the steps.
 

As Nate and Lolanta emerged from the temple, Atletl held a curved sword aloft and waved it. “Silence for the words of the goddess.”

The buzz of conversation died away. Nate and Thom stood at attention beside the entrance to the temple. Nate kept one hand unobtrusively braced on the doorframe to steady himself against the waves of vertigo. Bithia came out onto the single step, glowing pale green, her long hair spread out in the air as if it had life of its own. Green and red sparks pulsed into the gathering darkness from the tips of her hair.

“We’ve fought a great battle here today, my warriors and I, and defeated not only the evil priestess Lolanta, but the greater evil she served.” Bithia’s voice was sonorous and sounded amplified to Nate.
 

More gilintrae tricks
.

“My warriors and I carried out my father’s command and destroyed Nochen, where the Sarbordoni Clan and their evil gods held sway. We were assisted by my priestess and sister of the heart, Celixia.” She gestured at the priestess, who came forward to clasp her hand, the green glow reaching out to surround her for a moment. The two women exchanged a few words, Celixia nodding rapidly. Bithia gave her attention to Atletl next. “We relied on the strong arm and courageous heart of Atletl, Warrior of the Tolokon Totem, proud representative of the Githholz, whose sacred mission is to now bring peace and harmony to this troubled land.”

Atletl puffed up with visible pride as the crowd cheered for him, yelling his name and their approval of Bithia’s pronouncements.

She motioned for silence, obtaining it instantly, the crowd clearly in her sway. “I reward you for your service by giving you the hand of my sister Celixia in marriage.”

Bithia winked at Atletl as she said this.
 

BOOK: Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance)
10.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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