Prince of Luster (12 page)

His strength waned. He leaned back on his pallet of blankets. A small warm body cuddled next to him. He turned his head to see the white fuzzy creature Nova kept as a pet.

“Una likes you. She never left your side the whole time you were sleeping. Dogs sometimes know when someone needs help.”

Marcos gazed at the little bundle curiously. “Are you sure that’s a dog?”

Nova grinned. “She occasionally barks like one, so that’s what I call her. But there are a lot of unusual species in the galaxy that no one has ever seen or classified. Maybe this is what dogs look like where she came from.”

Somehow, he doubted the little animal was what Nova defined as something from the canine family. But the soft whirring noise Una made was comforting all the same. It made the pain of his open wounds diminish, at least for a time.

“Before you go to sleep, I have a question I need to ask.”

Marcos shifted his gaze away from the strange little animal and toward his hostess.

“Was it you who slammed the window?”

Remembering the little thief in the street outside the inn, Marcos actually smiled, even though it hurt to do so. “So … the little thief
was
you?”

She grinned back. “Thank you for alerting me. I guessed it must have been you. There were no other visitors staying at the inn but one lone gem merchant …
you
. At least not that I was aware of.”

He slowly shook his head. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. You saved my life, Nova. I won’t ever forget it, though I don’t know why you’d risk so much.”

She thought for a moment. “My mother was Wiccan. So am I. We believe there’s a reason for everything that happens. Maybe you were meant to save me … so that I could save you.”

“An odd set of circumstances, and an unusual reasoning for them,” he jokingly replied. “The Creator of all things truly does work in mysterious ways.”

She tucked the blankets around him, picked up a cloth to bathe his face, and smiled down at him. “You’re my responsibility. So rest now. Let your mind be at peace.”

Marcos let her soft words lull him into a deep sleep. Because of the gentle touch of her hands, her tranquil voice, and Una’s comfortable rumbling, no nightmares invaded his sleep. He felt safe. The pain faded.

• • •

Adaman Forrell sat on the edge of his bed and grew cold with fright. He’d never trusted Prometheus Worthy. Limaxians were known to sell their own families into slavery if it meant their comfort and wealth would be increased by doing so. Even blood-sucking vampires feared them.

He stood and paced. The surveillance device he’d installed in Prometheus’s chambers had proven its worth. The big slug leader was secretly searching for the man thought to be the prince of Luster. It was clear the Limaxian didn’t want
him
finding the scorched merchant
first
. Seeing and hearing what he had, he knew he must act in his own defense; one that might eventually put him into a much better diplomatic position by doing so. He pressed a buzzer summoning his personal guards.

Two could play the game the putrid slug pursued. If it was true the prince of Luster survived, then Marcos Starlaw must be found by
his
constables first. The son of the king could become a powerful bargaining tool, a way to guarantee his own survival and possibly his position as governor.

When the guards arrived, Forrell opened the door and let the three of them into his room. When they stood before him, and he was sure he had their undivided attention, he began.

“I have a special assignment for you. There’s a man I want you to search for. He’ll be strong, young, and have green eyes. He’ll be suffering profuse plasma burns. Find him and bring him to me at once. Tell no Limaxians. If the slugs see you and question your actions, refer them to me.” He smiled craftily and continued giving orders. He saw the way his men responded; grinning like serpents when they thought they’d be given the chance to best slugs.

“Pretend you’re hunting for replacement miners,” Adaman suggested. “Arrest anyone caught harboring this person and lock him or her in a cell. In fact, it might be best if you searched at night. Since we’ve previously gone into homes after dark to look for workers, there should be no suspicion about your activities as long as slugs are nowhere near. Keep me informed of everything you do.”

The guards nodded and would have left, but Adaman stopped them.

“One more thing. During the daylight hours, go to the marketplace and watch all the merchants who might be selling medicinals in any form. That means herbs, poultices, bandaging, and whatever a burn victim might need to survive. If anyone matching the description of this green-eyed man shows up, or if anyone seems to be purchasing more medicinals than usual, follow them to their residence. Once again … make any arrests after dark, while all the Limaxians are drinking in the tavern. I can’t put too fine a point on it—no one is to be given any reason for your search other than you’re conscripting new miners.” Forrell added an incentive: “I’ll pay triple the wages to the man who can succeed in finding this burned, green-eyed stranger and whomever he calls friend.”

The guards smiled even more broadly.

One of them stepped forward. “Is this the same man I saw the slug leader burn in the marketplace? That poor brute can’t have survived, sir. Not after what Prometheus did.”

Forrell nodded in confirmation. “He’s a gem merchant who should have been thoroughly interrogated. That Limaxian idiot let his temper get the better of him, as usual, and never thought to do so.”

The lead guard held out his hand in a questioning gesture. “Why would he need to be interrogated, sir? I still say the man can’t be alive.”

“I’ll explain,” Forrell congenially offered, and sat down in a nearby chair. “If you were there and witnessed the incident, you realize this merchant’s assertive behavior wasn’t common. Prometheus told me this man openly challenged his authority and even killed one of his best brawlers.

“That’s true, sir. I was there and saw it all.”

“You make my point,” Forrell gushingly told him. “Given that kind of hostility, any prudent person would have suspected this visitor wasn’t who he pretended to be. This stranger should have been brought in immediately and questioned.” He shot the guards a sly smile. “But I say all this because we might still have that chance. Despite your assertions to the contrary, my good fellow, I have reason to believe the merchant certainly
did
live. Prometheus told me there were several human constables and Limaxian brawlers who went missing. Uh … they were sent to make sure the merchant’s body was thrown into the pit. That body, as far as I know, hasn’t turned up. And our constables and the slug brawlers sent to find it never returned to their duties. They are still unaccounted for.”

Adaman slyly lowered his head. The lie concerning his ignorance of those missing brawlers and guards was meant to keep his own bribed men from knowing how expendable they really were. The unspoken but obvious suggestion was that the gem merchant the guards were to search for might have friends who’d helped him survive—that the merchant’s allies somehow got rid of comrades of the very men who now stood before him.

He played to the loyalty of his constables to him, to each other, even while hiding the truth. As always, he’d placate his men and let them believe everything he did was for the good of the colony. They’d fall in with his wishes only as long as he could maintain his innocent guise and provide them monetary incentives.

The men he now ordered to go look for the Starlaw prince—assuming that’s who the burned gem merchant really was—mustn’t think of their target as anything other than another dissenting malcontent whose compatriots might have hurt their fellow employees. The more calmly and quietly he gave orders, the more likely his guards would obey without question. Especially since he was offering this new set of men such a magnificent reward for finding their prey before the hated Limaxians did. That alone was enough to energize them. Besting the slugs was just icing on the cake to these clueless, underpaid civil servants standing before him.

The guards looked at each other in clueless disarray. Adaman just pasted on a much practiced, gentle-looking smile.

The most senior of the three guards spoke his thoughts. “But why would anyone help a stranger … especially to the point of taking out guards and brawlers? They’d be risking their lives by doing so.”

The governor sighed and feigned a bored shrug. “Perhaps someone hopes this merchant can pay them for his rescue. Who knows? The reasons could be endless. We can only find out what’s going on by locating the man. But we’ll have to be more cunning, quieter, and a great deal more alert than the slugs. Left to them, we’ll never get to the bottom of where your fellow guards really are.”

“This assignment won’t be hard, Governor. Limaxian brawlers aren’t blessed with a great deal of intelligence,” the first guard quipped.

The other two guards laughed in agreement.

Forrell patiently smiled. “I must agree with your keen sense of the situation,” he liberally complimented. “I can add that I trust these slugs no further than I can piss. I’m sure you’ll concur?”

The guards nodded, asserting their mutual accord on the subject.

“If he survived, let’s find this gem merchant. That, gentlemen, is your assignment. I bid you goodnight.”

The guards quickly left, to be about their task.

A few minutes later, Forrell sat on the edge of his bed, pulled his robe off, and prepared to rest. He chuckled at his shrewd handling of his minions.

Like all humans of Delta Seven, there was one thing they had in common—their hatred of the Limaxians. It didn’t matter what the assignment was, he knew his guards were always willing to take on any task that bested or belittled the slugs.

Thinking the matter over, he shook his head at Prometheus’s incredible stupidity when dealing with underlings. The differences between himself and that feckless creature were vast and went beyond species diversity. Chief among those variances was intelligence and the use of tact. Adaman knew he could get more by bribing his men than Prometheus could by threatening
his
. And that would be the reason
he’d
survive and the slug leader
wouldn’t
.

He fell back into his sumptuous pillows and thought about the hidden cache of jewels Prometheus had in his quarters. The lot that the putrid, slimy creature intended to keep and never mention.

Adaman congratulated himself again for the foresight to install good surveillance equipment in the Limaxian’s quarters. Using it during hours the slug leader thought he wouldn’t be disturbed, Adaman also had heard Prometheus discussing plans with his minions. Not satisfied with his share of the gems being mined, the big, gray, worm-like entity meant to use Adaman's
gems as
extra
booty to buy arms and ships. Those purchased ships and weapons would then be wielded against any perceived enemies in the entire sector. It was the slug leader’s intent to rule this parsec of space, but
that
was the way a thug used a veritable treasure trove of priceless jewels. Prometheus thought small.

One could rule far better using one’s wit, diplomatic chicanery, and under-the-table bribery. He’d done it all his life and meant to finally rise to the position and honor he knew he deserved.

To that end, he’d have his share of stones
and
Prometheus’s. He fantasized about ruling this world and setting himself up in a castle to rival that of Luster’s king. Then the aides and embassy minions of others would come seeking
his
hand to kiss. Above all, he had no intention of sharing such booty with ignorant miners who wouldn’t know what to do with it except drink and whore themselves into witless stupors. Simply put, his goal was to rule and to make his way into power through the use of the endless wealth he saw before him. First, he had to get by Prometheus. If he could find the prince of Luster before the slugs got to him, he’d have a chance to play the rescuer and gain a very powerful ally in the form of the prince’s father—Dar Starlaw.

“We’ll see how the game plays out, Prometheus. We’ll see who lives, who dies, and who gets to the prince first.”

Marcos finished urinating and limped back toward the cave.

It’d been two weeks since his salvation, but his entire body still hurt. When the plasma had hit him, he hadn’t had even the protection of a shirt to cover his torso. But that was exactly why Prometheus, or whoever the slug really was, had torn it off.

As he carefully crawled through the space into the inner chamber, he saw two small, booted feet before him. He looked up and smiled.

Nova stood before him with her hands on her hips and an angry expression pasted on her face. Her striking amethyst eyes flashed in fury.

“What the blazes did you think you were doing? Why did you leave the cave? I was only asleep for a few moments when you turned up missing. I looked for you and was worried when you didn’t answer my calls.”

He slowly stood when the ceiling within the cave allowed. It was one of the more excruciating things he’d done recently, but he managed to stand to his full height of just over six-and-a-half feet. “I had to … nature called. I heard you, but I was a bit busy.”

“I’ve been helping you take care of that.”

Marcos smiled. “I know. You’ve been rolling me off the soiled sheets and replacing them. I’m always in clean bedding when I awaken. But there’ll be no more of that. I have to start moving around much more. My joints will stiffen if I don’t, and you shouldn’t have to wait on me hand and foot. Not any longer.”

She stepped closer to him and dropped her angry façade. “I know that having someone take care of such a personal need isn’t palatable to a man like you. But it’s very cold outside. You’re only wrapped in a blanket.”

“The cold isn’t actually all that bad. In fact, it feels good on my skin. And I
will
take care of my personal needs on my own from now on. So, don’t panic if I don’t respond back when you call. I’ll probably be behind a rock or tree.”