Ardor's Leveche (21 page)

“Why do you want me to pretend to…?”

“When you take him out of this world, say this to him—
Ahora me vengo
. He will go to the Abyss thinking it was Queen Isabella who took his life.”

Ardor could see vengeance in Sanchez’s dark gaze. It was obvious to her he had held Gabriel’s mother in high esteem and it was the only way the poor woman would receive revenge for her untimely death.

“Consider it done, Captain,” she said.

“Diego,” he corrected and lifted her hand to kiss her fingers once more before letting go of her. He offered her his arm.

Ardor linked her arm through his and walked with him to the door. She barely glanced at the guards standing outside the king’s chamber but she thought she detected a gleam of satisfaction in the eyes of one of them. From what she had so far observed at Vespertine, King Alejandro’s death would not be mourned.

The great man himself was sitting stretched out upon his luxurious bed, a crystal goblet of wine clutched in his meaty hand. He was clad in a silk bathrobe and his hair looked wet, slicked back from his forehead. When he spoke, his words were slurred.

“Ah, there she is! What a beautiful little filly!” He toasted her and took another sip of the dark red wine.

Sanchez disengaged his arm from hers. “Go with the gods, Milady,” he blessed her then left.

“Come here, little filly!” the king commanded, draining his goblet. He tossed the empty vessel across the room where it hit the fireplace and shattered.

“¿
Es usted listo para su señora
,
mi águila?
”
she asked in the Storian language.

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

The king blinked then shook his head as though to rid himself of whatever image had sprung into his mind. He stared across the room at her, his face puckered in a frown. “Am I ready for you?” he asked.

“
Sí, mi querido, para mí soy listo para usted
,” she purred, coming closer.

“You are ready for me?” he questioned. He held up a hand. “But I killed you,

‘Bella.”

“
Usted hizo lo que usted se sentía que usted tuvo que
,” she said.

“Yes,” he stated. “Yes, I only did what I had to.”

Ardor walked to the side of the bed and sat down beside the king’s left hand. She slipped her fingers through his as she edged the skirt of her gown up with her right hand.

“
¿Tiene usted faltado me,
mi águila?
”
she asked as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger.

“Yes,” he said, tears gathering in his dazed eyes. “I have missed you, ‘Bella. I should never have drowned you that night. You were a good wife.”

With the dagger firmly in her hand, blade braced expertly with her thumb, she leaned over the king, hating the feel of his right arm coming around her waist to pull her to him. Bending closer to him so he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips, she brought her right hand up between them.

“
Esto está para Gabriel y Manuel
,” she said and jerked the blade across his throat from right ear to left, nearly severing his head from his body so sharp was the weapon’s honed edge. Then she repeated the words in Riezellian— “This is for Gabriel and Manuel!”

Bright arterial blood splashed over the bodice of her lovely pale green gown as the king grabbed at his neck. He opened his mouth to scream but only a gasping, bubbling sound came out. His legs began thrashing and the last sight he saw in his world was the satin of a pillowcase being pressed firmly over his face.

Ardor leaned her weight against the pillow until the feeble struggles of the man she had been sent to assassinate ceased. Even then, she held her position until she was sure he no longer posed a threat to Gabriel or peace. Her bodice sticking to her where his tainted blood had soaked into the material, she scrambled from the bed, dragging the skirt of her gown up to wipe her fingerprints from the hilt. She tossed the weapon on the bed then hurried to the tall standing mirror near the fireplace. Quickly pressing twice on the second panel she was relieved when the portal opened and she climbed through, closing it hastily behind her.

Leaning against the wall, Ardor was surprised to find she was trembling violently.

Though she’d killed men before in battle, she’d never taken the life of one unless her own was being threatened. She found she didn’t like the feeling the act gave her and wasn’t surprised that hot bile shot up her throat. Moving away from the panel as fast as she could, she clamped a hand over her lips to keep herself from vomiting. Deeper she went along the narrow hallway, putting distance between her and her kill.

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Ardor’s Leveche

“I am with you
,
”
she heard Gabriel whisper.

When she reached the little room hidden behind the wall of the throne room, she sank down to her knees—her back against the wall—and hunkered there shivering.

“Be calm, wench. I will be there soon.”

“Hurry
,
”
she pleaded with him.

* * * * *

Gabriel ran his hand through his hair and drew in a ragged breath. He could feel Ardor’s discomfort and it tugged at his heart. He had no feelings one way or the other concerning what she had done in his father’s bedchamber except that it bothered him she was upset. Truth be told, he was grateful she had saved him from having to kill his own father.

“The Web is down,
chanto
,” Breva said softly. “I’m taking us in.”

The Reaper nodded. He had no doubt that Diego Sanchez would see to their safety.

It had been by his order the Web had been shut down so the
Sangunar
could land.

“Diego has cleared the docking bay of all but essential personnel,” Breva reported.

“There will only be a handful of men who will see you disembark.”

“All right,” Gabriel said. He was picking up such devastating mind turmoil from Ardor and though he mentally tried to soothe her, he knew she wouldn’t quiet down until she could see him in person.

Breva cast his brother a glance and could tell he was preoccupied. There was nothing Gabriel could do until they landed so the Storian major went about the task of preparing for their descent on his own.

“Have they found the body yet?”

“A few minutes ago. Diego has had the room sealed off and all communication into and out of Stori has been terminated until further notice.”

“What about the guards who saw her go into his room?”

“They were Diego’s men and he trusts them. No one will be able to identify your lady as the one who was with the king when he left this world.”

Gabriel looked up. “What about the maids? She tells me there were four of them.”

Breva frowned. “I’ll see to it.” There was no need for him to ask his brother how he and Ardor were communicating.

Sitting tensely in the command chair, the Reaper knew he would be as nervous as Ardor was until he could take her in his arms and comfort her. He was worried men loyal to his father might find and hurt her before he could get there.

“Before he cut off communications Diego sent a message to all fleet ships to return to Stori immediately,” Breva stated.

“Who has he told about the assassination?”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Only the High Council. He’ll leave the official announcement to the people up to you,
chanto
.”

The Reaper’s ship began its descent to the surface of Stori, traveling through thick cloudbanks to the docking station just beyond the palace at Vespertine. The strobe lights of the runway pulsed brightly through the dense fog as the ship sailed in low and entered the high archway leading into the station.

“Web’s back up,” the chief engineer told them as soon as they’d cleared the archway.

“Remind Captain Sanchez’s men to monitor the incoming vessels very carefully.

We don’t want a spy ship to sneak past them,” Breva ordered.

“Aye, aye, Sir!”

The interior of the docking station was bright, the wide expanse of the landing area looking strange without the usual compliment of workers going industriously about their business. Moving past a line of runabouts on the left and warcruisers on the right, the
Sangunar
slowly made her way to the harness that lay waiting for her.

“Com Corps is getting a repeat hail from a Coalition ship cruising near Amerigen,”

Breva said. “Whatcha wanna bet it’s our old nemesis Bowen making the call?”

“Is the signal being ignored?” the Reaper asked.

“They’re getting a canned reply of all com links down at this time.”

“He’ll know she’s carried out her mission,” the Storian prince said. “He and Morrison are probably toasting one another right now.”

Nosing the mighty cruiser onto the docking platform, the flight engineer settled the

Sangunar
down gently and began shutting down the ship’s engine. The rest of the crew went about their work efficiently without having to be told. For most of them, it was the first time they had been home to Stori in over ten years and they were anxious to seek out family and loved ones.

“There’s a reception committee waiting for you,
chanto
,” Breva told him. “Diego is in his dress blues.” He grinned. “All seven members of the High Council are in attendance, as well.”

“Aye, well, the High Council has come to see Lord Savidos surrender,” Gabriel said. “I’m sure they are all gloating right about now. With the king dead, his treasonous warrior has come home to make amends and ask forgiveness.”

“Sanchez has handled his end of this admirably,” Breva agreed. “The councilmen look downright smug.”

“None of them will have a job by the end of this day,” Gabriel replied. “One or two may not have a head by the time this is finished.”

Gabriel knew at least one of the seven councilmen had been an ally, an accomplice of his father and he intended to see that man had no power by the time he was through with him. The others were merely puppets, doing as they were told without complaint 120

Ardor’s Leveche

or dissension. He picked up the skeletal mask for the last time and slipped it onto his face.

The Reaper was dressed formally also. A black leather tie had been added to the black silk uniform shirt. His black leather britches gleamed above highly polished black boots. The silver collar insignia caught the light—shining like twin beacons along his collarbones. In his left ear was a small white gold hoop and strapped to his right thigh was a wicked-looking silver dagger similar to the one Ardor had used to slay the king.

“I’ve counted twenty-two men on the docking catwalk,
chanto
,” Breva said. “That’s with Diego and the members of the High Council. There are six guards armed with laser pikes ready to take Lord Savidos into custody.”

“I’m sure the councilmen can hardly wait.”

“You look impressive,
chanto
,” Breva said as he fell into step beside his brother.

“When they get a look at you, they’ll shit their robes.”

“Before we disembark,” Gabriel said as he got up from the command chair, “make sure the crew is paid. I’m sure they’ll want to do some celebrating this eve.”

“I’ll see to it.”

When the hatchway door was all the way back, the two brothers stepped out onto the docking platform amidst a concerted gasp by the assembled High Council. Though only one of them had ever seen a Vid-Com image of the Reaper and knew he was looking at a mask, the others stepped back, the sight of the man coming toward them unsettling.

Diego called his guards to attention and snapped into that posture himself, his doubled fist pressed to his chest in salute.

The councilmen looked to Diego—expecting him to order the Reaper’s arrest—but when Diego and his men dropped to one knee, their heads bowed in respect, the members of the High Council looked at one another with stunned surprise.

“What is the meaning of this, Captain Sanchez?” High Commissioner Louis Valdez demanded. “Arrest that man!” He pointed at the Reaper.

The few workers who had been left in the docking station were also kneeling, having been ordered to follow the lead of the guards though none knew why. The only ones standing were the Reaper, his 2-I-C and the councilmen.

“Sanchez!” the High Commissioner shouted. “Do as I say!”

“Your days of giving orders are over, Valdez,” the Reaper said, coming closer.

“I am High Commissioner Louis Valdez, appointed by the king as—”

“Yesterday you were somebody, Valdez,” the Reaper interrupted. “Today you are nobody and it is you who are under arrest.”

Sputtering with outrage, Valdez lost what little sense he had and attempted to strike the man standing before him. Before he could, two guards sprang up and grabbed his arms, dragging him back roughly.

“How dare you!” Valdez shouted. “Sanchez, as acting king you must—”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“There is only one king of Stori,” the Reaper said, lifting his hands to the mask covering his face, “and I am he.”

The councilmen were not prepared for the face that emerged from behind the ghastly mask. Eyes widened, mouths dropped open and bodies began to tremble. The only member of the High Council who did not drop automatically to his knees was Louis Valdez.

“So,” the high commissioner sneered, “the prodigal son returns to pay his respects at the funeral pyre of the man he betrayed!”

“No, there will be no funeral byre for Alejandro Leveche,” Gabriel said. “Since you signed both my brother’s death warrant as well as mine, the only traitor here is you.”

“No funeral byre?” one of the councilmen said, his voice squeaking. “Your Grace, you can not deny the king his rightful—”

“He murdered my mother,” Gabriel cut him off. “With his own hands he drowned her! He betrayed me to the Coalition and had me turned over to them to be executed.

He had my brother—his youngest son—beheaded because he feared Manuel would take the throne from him and do right by the Storian people.” He shook his head. “No, Alejandro Leveche does not deserve the honor of a funeral byre and he will not receive one!”