Shamara (17 page)

"Mori, you're not going to believe this," Celie said. "Commander Gunnar contacted me, upset and hostile. The first time, he asked me questions about my trip to Travan. He wanted to know if I'd taken a passenger with me when I left there. He didn't believe me when I told him no and threatened me if he found out I was lying."

Travan?
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Eirene's stomach. Just who was this Gunnar, and why was he asking Celie questions about Travan, unless—

"The first time?" Sabin interjected, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes, there were two encounters," Celie said wearily.

Moriah slipped an arm around her sister. "Gunnar accused you of lying?"

Realization broadsided Eirene with sickening clarity. The only Leor who could possibly be asking Celie about a passenger from Travan, especially so soon after Eirene had left there, had to be the Leor who had entered into the bride bargain with her uncle. The Leor who intended to marry her.

"He warned me more than once of the consequences if I didn't tell him the truth." Celie's reply sounded far away to Eirene's stunned mind. She forced herself to listen and find out how much this Gunnar knew.

"But after we talked the first time, he seemed to accept what I told him," Celie continued.

"Which was?" Sabin prompted.

"That I had been to Travan, but I didn't carry any extra passengers when I left. At least, not any that I knew of."

Spirit, Vaden and Gunnar had correctly deduced Eirene had been on Celie's ship. Worse, Gunnar apparently knew Celie and Moriah, and had been able to track down Celie. The poor young woman had taken the brunt of his wrath.

"Leor males are serpents," Celie's first officer announced, her voice deep and harsh. "Scum of the universe." Emitting waves of savage aggression, she fingered the handle of a dagger sheathed at her waist, a ferocious gleam in her stunning aqua eyes. "Every one of them deserves
kamta."

"Kamta
is the Zarian method of carving up their enemies," the young man explained to Eirene. "Lionia says that about anyone she doesn't like. By the way, I'm Radd."

With a start, she realized she could read him. He was calm and relaxed, radiating no tension at all. She could pick up his feelings when she couldn't read the other men. He must not be a Shielder.

Celie stared at Eirene, her expression confused. "Don't I know you?"

"You met her briefly on Saron," Jarek cut in. His arms folded across his chest, he stared at Eirene thoughtfully before returning his attention to Celie. "Did Gunnar tell you anything about the passenger he was seeking?"

The air crystallized in Eirene's chest.
No. Don't take this any further.

"Yes, as a matter of fact he did. He said he was looking for a female who'd been promised as his bride, a Lady Eirene. A woman with black hair and—" Celie faltered as her gaze swung back to Eirene. She frowned, her brows drawing together. "—blue eyes," she finished slowly.

Everyone stared at Eirene. She stood frozen, like a kerani in a trap, her heart pounding. What now? She had the inane urge to turn and run and keep running, but common sense told her she was trapped. Even so, she sidled away from the ship.

Moving behind her, Jarek cut off her only avenue of escape. He rested his hands on her shoulders, halting her movement. "There's nothing to fear. You're safe here with us."

"I think I know where I saw you," Celie said.

"The Pleasure Dome," Lionia said bluntly. "She was with Jarek when we got there."

"Are you from Travan?" Celie asked. "More importantly, did you stow away on my ship?"

Eirene nodded. "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you."

"I think I'm starting to get the picture here," Moriah mused. "This isn't totally your fault, Eirene. You're not responsible for Gunnar's actions. He can get pretty aggressive."

"I'll say," Sabin snorted. "Celie, what happened the second time Commander Gunnar contacted you?"

Celie tore her attention from Eirene. "He didn't just contact me. His battleship intercepted my ship, and he demanded I allow him to dock and board."

Moriah looked genuinely shocked. "Gunnar did that? He hasn't done such a thing since—"

"He hit my ship with a photon blast six seasons ago," Sabin interjected. "I'm not surprised by what he did to Celie. What did he want this time?"

Celie flipped her hair over her shoulder. "He accused me outright of lying to him. He said he'd determined his bride had traveled to Saron, and that she disappeared the same day my ship left Travan. At first, he'd been willing to accept the fact that this woman had been a stowaway on my ship. But then I went to Saron, where I was seen with Jarek. Gunnar tracked the woman—I mean, Eirene—to Elysia. He claimed one of her uncle's associates saw her with Jarek on Elysia, but that they got away."

Eirene felt sick inside. Her carelessness had not only left a clear trail for her uncle to follow her, but had put innocent people at risk.

"Since Gunnar knows about our connection with Jarek," Celie continued, "he decided there was too much evidence to be coincidental, and that we were conspiring against him. He was ready to blow up our ship."

Eirene's heart leaped into overdrive, even though Celie's ship obviously hadn't been destroyed.

"Spirit!" Moriah gasped, her face pale. "I don't believe this."

"I do," Sabin said grimly. "The bastard thinks like a damned Controller."

"But he didn't follow through with his plan, thank Spirit," Moriah said. "Why did he change his mind?"

"I threw myself on his mercy. I reminded him that we'd worked with his people over eight seasons, and our dealings had always been honorable. I appealed to his sense of justice."

"Did a very good job of it, too," Radd interjected. "She handled herself like a real professional."

"I didn't do well enough," Celie said. "Commander Gunnar refrained from detonating the ship, but he decided to take a hostage, in the event he discovered we had lied."

"Lani challenged the serpent," Lionia explained. "She showed great courage. He took her as his hostage."

"I insisted that I should be the one to go." Celie threw up her hands, her distress obvious. "As the ship's captain, it was my place to take the risk. But Lani insisted on pushing Gunnar, and he chose to take her. I think he had some idea of exacting retribution for her insulting him. Poor Lani."

Lani taken hostage!
Eirene felt sick inside. This was all her fault.

"Nah. Quit frettin' about it, Captain," Radd said. "Lani will be just fine. She can take care of herself."

Everyone looked at him with skeptical expressions. Eirene thought of how petite and fragile Lani was, and how large and fierce Gunnar had looked. She didn't see how Lani could survive an encounter with the barbaric Leors.

"Gotta admit, though," Radd continued, "I am a little worried about Gunnar."

*  *  *

"You call this a battleship?" Hands on her hips, Lani surveyed the corridor in disgust. "It's filthy!"

"Warriors do not do slave's work," Gunnar snapped. "The ship will be cleaned when we return to Dukkair." He looked contemptuously down her feathered form. "Perhaps you should be assigned that duty."

Righteous indignation sizzled through Lani. The nerve of this savage! She wasn't lazy, and certainly didn't think cleaning was beneath her, but neither was she a slave. "Perhaps your men could benefit from the discipline of performing necessary tasks, no matter how menial," she retorted.

Two furrows appeared above the bridge of Gunnar's nose, and his eyes sparked with anger. The lack of eyebrows and the smooth dome of his well-shaped head lent him an exotic look. Lani decided she'd have to access a computer and do some research on Leors.

"We are exceedingly disciplined," he hissed. "We insist on rigorous training and personal self-sacrifice in our soldiers. No error or flaw is acceptable."

"Then I take it cleanliness is not considered a necessary trait."

Gunnar's face hardened even more. My, but the planes of his face were chiseled as beautifully as the rugged glaciers of Atara. Lani wondered if his ancestors might have come from the ice regions.

"We keep ourselves very clean," he gritted out. "But we do not perform slave labor."

"Well, I won't live in filth. If this situation can't be corrected, then I demand you return me to Celie Cameron's ship immediately."

"You are not in any position to make demands. You are a hostage. Perhaps a stint in the brig will clarify that fact."

"What? You expect me to stay in that hole? It's even filthier than this corridor! Is this how you treat people in your charge, Commander? With rudeness and negligence and squalor?"

"You are a hostage!"
he roared, clenching his hands into fists. "Not a guest on the High Commander's residential ship."

"I'm well aware that I'm a hostage," Lani huffed. "But I have rights. The Intergalactic Humanities Act from the Varian Summit of the fourth millennium clearly states—"

"The Intergalactic what?"

Gunnar was obviously becoming distraught. His face was flushed and veins were bulging at his temples. Lani folded her hands primly. She refused to respond to raised voices and inappropriate language in any way but a cool and calm manner.

"Are you finished yelling?" she asked. "When you are, we'll continue this discussion in a civilized manner."

"Civilized?" he sneered. "This from an echobird who attacks at the first provocation, I have not forgotten the fist in my back or the heel in my leg—the touch of a weakling."

Lani narrowed her eyes. "That's because you're an arrogant, overbearing brute who likes to threaten and intimidate women. I wasn't about to stand there and let you browbeat a sweet young woman like Celie. Why, the girl—"

"Cease!" Gunnar rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Your strident chattering is beginning to wear on my patience."

Patience? The man wouldn't know patience if it blasted him in the rear—and a nicely muscled rear it was. She was on vacation, Lani reminded herself. Time to put the job aside for a while. She launched back into the fray. "And your chauvinistic attitude toward women is beginning to really annoy me, Commander."

"Enough!" Gunnar held up his hand. "What will it take to stop your endless carping?"

"Two of your men and cleaning equipment at my disposal."

"You expect
my men
to clean this ship?"

"That would be a very courteous thing to offer, Commander."

"Will that shut you up?"

Lani drew herself up. "For now."

He growled—actually growled—like a wild tri-horned boar about to change. The timber of his voice reverberated through her, right down to her blue-tipped toes. My, but the man was primitive. Excitement shuddered through her.

Glaring at her, Gunnar raised his hand and snapped his fingers. "Karr, Feron, come! You are to assist this yapping echobird in cleaning the ship to her satisfaction. Then she will cease her complaints and we can continue our journey in peace."

Both men eyed him incredulously. "You are ordering us to
clean,
sir?" the one called Karr dared to ask.

"You will not question my orders!" Gunnar roared. "Obey immediately or face charges of treason."

The two soldiers snapped to attention, each crossing one arm over his chest. "As you wish, Commander."

"Thank you," Lani told Gunnar. If he could concede to her, however ungraciously, then she should show the proper courtesy. No one had any manners anymore.

He turned away with a grunt.

"We need cleaning supplies," she told Gunnar's lackeys. They grumbled beneath their breath as she followed them down the corridor.

Lani smiled to herself. She knew something no savage warrior would ever admit: The bigger they were, the harder they fell.

Eirene slipped away while everyone was at the main hall, discussing what had happened to Celie and her crew, and what Gunnar's next move might be. No doubt they would talk about Eirene after she left the hall. She had been well aware of the curious stares, the speculation. She needed to be alone, without others' emotions pressing in on her.

Once outside, she headed for the lake. She moved through the copse of trees, toward the shimmering, beckoning water. Since Celie's arrival, the little bit of peace Eirene had found on Risa had dissipated. Feeling emotionally battered and vulnerable, she sought a place to replenish herself. The water seemed to have an energy, psychic and spiritual, that drew her like a starflower to the sun.

Stepping from the shelter of the trees, she moved to the water's edge. She understood it wasn't a large lake, but it looked huge to her because she'd never seen anything like it. She sank down on the sandy strip rimming it and slipped her hand into the blue water. Despite the dispersing heat of the day, it was cool, calming. Closing her eyes, she swished her hand through the water, letting the peaceful sound sooth her soul.

She'd made a fine mess of things. She hadn't thought to disguise herself or use a different name when she fled Travan, so she'd left a clear trail for her uncle. Her actions had put Celie and her crew in danger, and led to Lani being taken hostage. And to top off a bad situation, Eirene was just as helpless, just as much a prisoner here, as she'd been on Travan. How could things have reached this point?

She wished Rayna was here. Her mentor would have shared wisdom and guidance. But Rayna was gone, her life worn away by hard work and harsh living conditions—and by Eirene's foolish attempt to use her powers. Renewed grief washed over her. Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees.

She sat that way a long time, allowing the fresh air and the water's energy to ease the edge off the terrible pain. Awareness of another presence jolted her out of her thoughts. She raised her head as Jarek stepped from the trees. A small dark form scurried after him—Ranie.

Why couldn't he leave her alone? The least he could do was to allow her some solitude. But he gave her no respite, moving to her side and squatting down. "Are you okay?"