Authors: Katherine Irons
Waterborne (4 page)
She had to consider that she really was somewhere beneath the surface of the Pacific in a city called Lemoria. She’d heard the name before, but in the realm of myth, filed in the same category as Atlantis and Shangri-La. Lemoria was supposed to be an ancient civilization in the Pacific, pre-dating the Old Kingdom in Egypt that had been destroyed by earthquakes, erupting volcanoes, and tidal waves. Nowhere had Ree ever read that Lemoria was beneath the sea, or that it existed anywhere but in legend.
In any case, wherever she was, she had to get out and report back to her superiors. She had to explain what had happened and why she’d failed to complete her mission. How she was going to accomplish this, she wasn’t sure, but it hadn’t been the first time she’d found herself in deep water without a paddle.
She’d set about finding a way out of here just as soon as she felt stronger. She just needed to get a little sleep ... make a plan. She yawned and blinked, trying to shake the heavy feeling of exhaustion that had settled over her. Soon, she decided, soon, but her eyes were already closing and her limbs were losing their strength. She slipped to the floor and fell into a deep, almost trance-like slumber.
“You’re to make it appear that he’s escaped,” Caddoc said. “Tell him anything, but get him out of the cell and far enough away that you can dispose of the body without anyone being the wiser.” He lowered his voice. “Have I made myself clear? No mistakes and no excuses. I want him dead before the tide turns.”
The muscular figure in the shadows nodded.
“Cut off his right hand. Bring it to me, and you’ll be suitably rewarded.” Not that he didn’t trust his liegemen, but it never paid to get sloppy.
Alexandros has a scar between his thumb and index finger.
Caddoc had been teaching his younger brother the finer points of swordplay when Alex was ten or eleven, and the brat had been slow to get his guard up. A pity the blade hadn’t cut deeper. A maimed prince could never mount the throne of Atlantis. It would have been the perfect solution then, but not now. Alexandros, minus a hand, would still be as dangerous as a moray eel. Dead, he would pose no more problems.
Caddoc had been teaching his younger brother the finer points of swordplay when Alex was ten or eleven, and the brat had been slow to get his guard up. A pity the blade hadn’t cut deeper. A maimed prince could never mount the throne of Atlantis. It would have been the perfect solution then, but not now. Alexandros, minus a hand, would still be as dangerous as a moray eel. Dead, he would pose no more problems.
“And whatever you do, don’t mention my name when you’re moving him,” Caddoc warned. “He doesn’t know I’m here. If he did, he might be suspicious. The two of us have never been what you’d call close.”
The warrior grunted and nodded a second time.
“Don’t fail me in this,” Caddoc said, resting a hand lightly on the hilt of his ivory-handled scimitar. “Because if he doesn’t die before the next tide, you will. And, I guarantee you won’t care for the manner of your passing.”
CHAPTER 4
M
organ, Poseidon, high king of Atlantis, stood with his beloved wife Rhiannon and their children on the great balcony of the royal palace overlooking the city. Both king and queen were splendid in full court regalia and wore the priceless jeweled crowns that had been crafted in the mists of time. Their young daughter, the Princess Danu, was garbed in a simple lavender tunic; her delicate coronet a circle of golden dolphins. The baby prince wore no crown, but his golden cuirass, kilt, and royal purple cloak were an exact duplicate of Poseidon’s, in miniature.
organ, Poseidon, high king of Atlantis, stood with his beloved wife Rhiannon and their children on the great balcony of the royal palace overlooking the city. Both king and queen were splendid in full court regalia and wore the priceless jeweled crowns that had been crafted in the mists of time. Their young daughter, the Princess Danu, was garbed in a simple lavender tunic; her delicate coronet a circle of golden dolphins. The baby prince wore no crown, but his golden cuirass, kilt, and royal purple cloak were an exact duplicate of Poseidon’s, in miniature.
Below, thousands of cheering Atlanteans—soldiers, nobility, members of the priesthood, and common folk alike—had gathered for this moment, the presentation of the new crown prince. Scattered among the crowds were dolphins, clusters of tiny fairies, naiads, merfolk, and nymphs. From every ocean, well-wishers had gathered to welcome Poseidon’s firstborn son and heir.
Shouts of congratulations and approval rose like crashing surf around Poseidon as he lifted his year-old son from his mother’s arms. Gently, Poseidon raised the chubby toddler high over his head, and the massed throngs went wild with joy. Their high king and queen had produced a healthy male heir, another Poseidon-In-Waiting, securing the long line of Atlantean kings.
For a full year, from the time of his birth until today, the precious baby prince had been sheltered in his mother’s quarters, kept from the public eye, and had not been named. This would be his official recognition when his royal uncles, his grandparents, aunts and uncles, and the full force of the military and the courts would swear their fealty to him. Likewise, allies, such as the fairy nation, would recognize Poseidon’s heir and pledge again their support for the treaty that bound their kingdoms in friendship.
The naming of a new crown prince might come only once in centuries and the kingdom-wide celebration would go on for weeks. During that time, Poseidon would provide free food, drink, new clothing, and vouchers for the coming year’s taxes to every citizen. Students would be on holiday from their classes, convicted prisoners pardoned, and debts forgiven.
Contests, games of athletic prowess, musical and academic competitions would be held in the temples of learning and sports arenas, offering opportunities for young men and women to prove themselves worthy of recognition. Those who excelled might be awarded citizenship or even raised to the rank of nobility. Priests and priestesses would hold prayer services of thanksgiving daily, and gifts would be exchanged between families and friends.
In honor of the young prince, every child in the kingdom would receive special presents, and every home would echo with laughter and the sound of feasting. But most of all, the ties of kinship and loyalty to Atlantis would tighten, as every family considered the promise of new life and possibilities.
“I give you my beloved son, Prince Perseus!” Morgan shouted. “Long may he reign!”
“But not for eons!” came back the roar of hundreds of thousands.
The queen looked anxiously at her little one, fearful that the tumult would frighten him, but the little prince laughed, kicked his legs, and waved the small golden trident clutched tightly in his right hand.
“He likes it,” his sister Princess Danu cried. “You’re a brave boy, aren’t you, Perseus?”
Again the king raised his son for all to admire and then, smiling, gave him over to the waiting arms of the queen. Then, Morgan took his small daughter’s hand and led her to the edge of the balcony. “And to you I present our daughter, Princess Danu! It is our wish that you give her the same loyalty and support you offer our son!”
Again the cheers rose above the thud of soldiers’ tridents striking the marble pavement and the clash of swords against breastplates. Princess Danu, once human but now Atlantean, had long won the hearts and minds of her people with her keen mind and courage. That she showed promise of becoming a powerful healer only endeared her to them more.
“Princess Danu!” the onlookers cried. “Long live our princess!”
Still others took up the queen’s name, and the roar of “Queen Rhiannon!” echoed down the columned avenues and rose above the temples and palaces. Morgan looked back at his wife and encircled her shoulder with a strong arm. Blushing, she allowed him to lead her forward to stand beside him and their daughter to receive her due accolades.
“Poseidon! Poseidon! Poseidon!”
The king raised his golden trident in acknowledgment a final time, then turned and ushered his family back inside. A guard hurried to close the doors behind them, shutting out the tumult from the city.
Rhiannon gave a sigh of relief and passed the now fussing baby to Prince Orion, who dangled him upside down until Perseus began to giggle again. “I think someone’s hungry,” he ventured.
“And sleepy,” the queen added. She removed her heavy gold crown set with pearls and sapphires and handed it to a waiting servant. “And he’s not the only one.”
Morgan slipped off his crown and tossed it to his younger brother Paris. “Try that on for size,” he said.
“Not me,” Paris replied. Instead, he balanced it on little Perseus’ head. The crown promptly slipped forward and lodged on a dough blob of a nose. The prince crowed with laughter and tugged at the crown. Perseus tilted his head forward, the crown tumbled off, and a dolphin nursemaid caught it neatly before it hit the marble floor. “See”—Paris said—“already a king. What he doesn’t like, he won’t tolerate.”
“I’m glad that’s over,” Rhiannon said, removing the baby’s cuirass and kilt, leaving him in a simple soft loincloth. “Isn’t that better?” she murmured to Perseus. He gurgled happily and patted her cheek. “You know how I dread these state occasions.”
“You shouldn’t,” Morgan said, motioning for Perseus’ nurse to take him. “Your subjects love you.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “Your king loves you even more.”
Rhiannon’s mouth curved in a smile as she rubbed the back of her neck. “And I love you. But ...” She grimaced. “You and Danu are better prepared to cope with this formality than I am. If I had my way, I’d never attend another state occasion.”
“Objection noted,” Morgan said. “But ...” He shrugged. “Some things we have to do. And today assures our children’s future safety and the loyalty of their subjects.”
“I suppose”—Rhiannon agreed as she unfastened her bracelets and necklace of pearls and rubies and passed them to a lady-in-waiting—“but I’ve never been fond of crowds, and there are too many people out there to count. It’s a little overwhelming.”
“For one not born to royalty, you manage admirably,” Lady Athena said. “Her highness, the dowager Queen Korinna, says that you have arranged a magnificent feast for this evening.” She bent to tickle the baby and was rewarded with a giggle.
“With Queen Korinna’s help,” Rhiannon insisted. “I couldn’t imagine trying to manage the palace staff without her.” She smiled at the baby’s nurse. “I think it’s time for the prince’s nap, don’t you? He’ll be a bear if he’s over-tired.”
“He will, your highness.” The stout woman nodded, curtsied, and carried little Perseus off to his bed.
“We have a chamberlain, don’t we?” Morgan said, continuing the conversation. “Can’t you delegate some of these tasks for entertaining?”
“Nevertheless, I’m proud of you,” Athena said, tactfully ignoring Morgan’s remark.
Rhiannon smiled at her mother. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just check with the chefs one last time. Lady Athena, Danu, would you two like to come with me?”
Orion waited until the queen, Lady Athena, and his niece left the chamber before gesturing to Morgan. “We need to speak.”
With a last glance to make certain that his son was well cared for, the king followed his brother into a small anti-chamber. “Any news of Alex?”
Orion shook his head. “Nothing. I just received confirmation from Dewi that the target has been sighted in Fiji. He left the
Anastasiya
and flew into the capital by helicopter. Bleddyn was unable to locate Alex. He wasn’t at the meeting place, and he hasn’t made contact.”
Anastasiya
and flew into the capital by helicopter. Bleddyn was unable to locate Alex. He wasn’t at the meeting place, and he hasn’t made contact.”
Morgan’s jaw tightened. He’d had a bad feeling about this mission. “It doesn’t mean Alex is in trouble,” he said, more to convince himself than Orion. “It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to go it alone.”
“That’s what worries me. I’d like to take a regiment out to the Pacific. See what’s happening firsthand.”
“You can’t. I need you here. The kingdom is vulnerable during Perseus’ celebration. You’re the best I’ve got, and your place is with your troops here in the city.”
“And Alex? How long do we wait before we start to worry?”
Morgan’s gut knotted. Of his brothers, Alex was always the one he was most concerned about. He took too many risks, and Morgan was afraid he was beginning to believe the legend that had grown up around him. “It’s a big ocean, Orion. There’s no guarantee you could find him, even with a regiment. Dewi and Bleddyn know their stuff. They’ll find him, or he’ll find them.”
“I hope you’re right.” Orion fixed him with a hard stare. “If anything bad happens to him, and I could have prevented it ...”
It wasn’t a scenario Morgan wanted to consider. There were a lot of reasons that might prevent Alex from rendezvousing with his team. “If the worst has happened—if Alex made a strike at Varenkov and failed—it’s too late already,” he said gruffly. “But if I were the gambler Alex is, I’d bet my crown on our brother turning up safe and sound.”
Orion gripped Morgan’s shoulder. “That’s your final decision?”
“It is.” And as Orion turned away, muscles rigid and green eyes as clear as polished emeralds, Morgan smothered the thought that rose in his mind.
Be glad you weren’t firstborn and don’t have to give these orders.
Be glad you weren’t firstborn and don’t have to give these orders.
Alex sensed, rather than heard, someone coming. The darkness was absolute. The light-fish’s radiance had faded and gone out hours or days ago. It was impossible to see anything but stygian blackness around him in the tiny cell. Above him, he could feel the weight of the city pressing down on him, and below ... And in the depths below were only the creaking and hissing of molten rock, rivers of lava, and the grinding of shifting earth plates.
He’d not wasted his strength on trying to break down the door. Instead, he’d folded himself into a compact form and tried to sleep. Hunger had plagued him, but it was a minor annoyance. It was fear that had worn away at him, fear that no one would come to open the cell, that he would remain here until he shriveled and died. Tight enclosed places were his bane. He hated them, and it took all of his willpower to hold back the terror that threatened to overcome his wits.
Now, someone was coming. For good or evil, the waiting was over. The presence halted in front of his cell.
“Prince Alexandros?”
He recognized the voice. It was that of ’Enakai’s captain of the guard—Anuata. “Where else would I be?” he answered with more bravado than he felt. “Have you come to escort me to the high priestess’s bedchamber?” Considering where he was, that might be a possibility he’d consider.
The bolts on the massive door groaned and scraped.
Alex steeled himself for the first blow. If Anuata had come to execute him, there wouldn’t be a better opportunity. He could hardly move, let alone defend himself.
“I’ve come to get you out of here,” Anuata said. “Be quick. A death bounty has already been placed on your head.”
Alex’s muscles were stiff as he climbed out of the hole, but he forced himself upright. “What of the human female? Is she alive?”
“Alive and well,” the captain answered. “The palace is buzzing about her presence. Even ’Enakai is curious to inspect her.” Anuata extended a hand and clasped Alex’s right forearm. “Did you think I’d abandon you?”
He gripped her muscular arm tightly. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“And mine, truth be told.” She slipped into the common tongue. “You’ve put me in an uncomfortable place, Atlantean. Do I honor my post or turn traitor to my own kind and keep the promise I made to you years ago?”
“Saving your life was a gift. There’s no need for you to feel beholden to me.”
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