Undaunted (Battle Born Book 6) (4 page)

“Letos met with a representative from the battle born and an ambassador from Tandori Tribe. As of yesterday morning, we are all in an alliance.”

Quinton fisted his hands at his sides and felt his nostrils flare. How dare they openly defy him? How dare they… Forcing calm back into his expression and his voice, Quinton asked, “Was Letos representing the IG or all eight guilds?”

Lont meandered forward, cunning gleaming in his dark eyes. “He represented all eight guilds. Just so I’m clear, all eight guild masters agreed to rise up against you.”

“All eight?” Quinton snapped. “Yourself included?”

“It was a necessary deception, sire. My loyalty has never faltered.”

Quinton still wasn’t sure what Lont gained by betraying his colleagues, but he was glad for the warning.

Unless it was some sort of trick.

Carefully guarding his expression, he asked, “When and how will they strike?”

“I don’t know, sire. Letos said the battle born would orchestrate the actual coup. There is no need for the guilds to be directly involved until after…”

“They’ve murdered me?” Quinton clasped his hands behind his back, refusing to reveal the emotions surging through him. He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew his subjects were discontent and the battle born were rapidly developing into a treacherous force, but this was unbelievable. If what Lont said was true, the only thing standing between him and all-out mutiny of his entire armed forces was the elite commanders. And that layer of protection had been gradually eroded year after year. The ranks of the battle born swelled and fewer and fewer elite officers were willing to ship out with a crew filled with battle born soldiers. “If this is all you know, why are you here?”

“This is all I know
now
. Letos has no reason to doubt me. He said he’ll keep all the guild masters informed each step of the way. And everything I learn, I’ll pass on to you.”

Quinton stilled, staring deep into Lont’s eyes. “Why?” Lont just looked back at him as if he didn’t understand the question. “Why risk everything to become my informant?”

His tone grew sharper as it filled with import. “If their plan succeeds, I’ll end up with even less influence than I have now.”

It was true. If the Keire dynasty toppled—which Quinton would never allow to happen—Letos and Garin Nox would become the power players on Rodymia. Lont would become one of many fighting for the scraps from their table. “And what do I owe you if their plan fails because of information you provide?”

Lont squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “You will outlaw the operation of venture capitalists and crowdfunding on Rodymia.”

Quinton laughed. “Is that all?” The Financial Guild already controlled traditional banking and the credit industry. Venture capitalists, however, refused to play by the antiquated rules. They claimed their agreements were private contracts between individuals and weren’t bound by any rules other than those outlined in the contract. And crowdfunding was even worse. The concept had been unleashed on Rodymia by a well-meaning human several years ago. Now fundraising campaigns were run for everything from a child’s minor injury to multi-billion credit construction projects. To complicate things further, many of the entrepreneurs who sought out venture capital or ran crowdfunding campaigns belonged to the Integration Guild. “You want me to openly defy the Integration Guild?”

“That’s an odd question for a crown stirate.” Though challenge snapped through the question, Lont quickly averted his gaze. “Letos is not Javin Aidentar, thank creation. Letos is much less ruthless and much more willing to negotiate. But it won’t last long. That sort of power changes people.”

“You said Letos is interim guild master. Do you think they’ll vote him in when the time comes?”

“All the other candidates are too divisive. If Letos will accept the position, I believe they’ll give it to him.”

The stipulation confused Quinton. “Why wouldn’t Letos want to be Integration Guild Master? It’s a position nearly as influential as mine.” In truth, many argued that the Integration Guild wielded more power than the crown, but Quinton refused to dwell on such foolishness.

“What Letos ultimately decides is one detail among many.” Irritation crept into Lont’s tone as the conversation dragged on. “I need to know that you will repay my risk with some sort of benefit. If you’re not willing to ‘openly defy’ the IG, what are you willing to do?”

What a rodent. Quinton was tempted to motion his guards in from the shadows and have one of them snap Lont’s scrawny neck. “I’ll promise you this, the reward I bestow will be proportional to your risk and the value of the information you provide.”

Lont fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You won’t be more specific?”

“I
can’t
be more specific. Many of the factors in this equation have yet to be defined. First and foremost, you have to keep me alive or this entire conversation is moot.”

With a heavy sigh, Lont agreed. “Then we’ll speak again once the situation is more developed.”

Quinton’s gaze narrowed as Lont disappeared into the surrounding trees. He hadn’t waited to be dismissed. He’d just turned and walked away. When had this world become so disrespectful?

“Shall I have him followed, sire?” Edron, Quinton’s head of security, appeared at his side. All of his guards were tall and heavily muscled, but Edron stood half a head above the others. He couldn’t actually teleport, but he moved so silently at times, it seemed like he could.

“Not yet.” He turned and headed for the palace. If he’d known the exchange would have taken this long, he would have brought his skimmer. It wasn’t wise to be tromping around after dark when one was as important as Quinton. “They all think I’m a fool, but I already have assurances in place that will render their plans pointless.”

“Rex Dravon?”

The derision in Edron’s tone made Quinton tense. “He’s been in place and ready to strike for weeks now. He’s simply waiting for me to say ‘go’. Why do you dislike him so much?”

“He’s a deserter, sire, worse than the rebels. At least they believe they’re fighting for something. Dravon and his lot have no honor. They’re self-serving and ruthless.”

Quinton glanced at his companion. Edron had served him for years. He was the only member of Quinton’s staff allowed to speak freely. “I know very well that he can’t be trusted. He’s a mercenary, for creation’s sake. Still, that fact is irrelevant as long as we’re working toward the same goal.”

“Goals can change.”

He spun toward Edron, fists planted on his hips. “What’s your point?” Everyone was treating him like a simpleton tonight and it was irritating the hells out of him. “Dravon offers his services to those who can afford his exorbitant rates. We agreed on a price and he agreed to bring me Garin Nox. The only thing I need to trust him to do is finish the job.” Then he’d order Edron to kill him because Quinton didn’t have the credits he’d promised Dravon.

“It would be much cleaner if you ordered his death rather than attempting his capture,” Edron pointed out.

“Cleaner perhaps, but I will not turn Nox into a martyr. That would only make the battle born more determined to fight on in his name.”

Arguments still gleamed in Edron’s eyes, but he settled for a stiff nod and said nothing more.

Quinton shrugged and offered one final thought. “Once Garin is under my control, I’ll have Dravon take out all the other rebel leaders. That way their power structure will be decimated and everyone will blame the tragic loss on Garin Nox.”

Again Edron only nodded.

Quinton’s temper was still smoldering when they reached the palace, so he stormed to his private chambers and slammed the door. Edron insisted that at least one of the guards remain in the same room with Quinton at all times, but Quinton wasn’t in the mood for company. Not foolish enough to be blinded by emotion, he checked the security grid to make sure everything was quiet before he kicked off his shoes and seated himself in front of his workstation.

He was tired of this endless conflict. Hostilities with Bilarri had settled into a three-year lull. Reports of skirmishes reached him from time to time, but for the most part, Rodymia was stable, life here routine. Or it had been until the battle born lost their collective minds.

Quinton was convinced the annoying rebellion would have blown itself out if not for Garin Nox. Garin was one of, if not the best commander Quinton had ever known. He’d given “General” Nox every opportunity to mend his ways and return to the privileged life of an elite officer. Instead, the stubborn fool escalated the rebellion at every turn, flouting royal decrees and using Quinton’s own army against him.

Well, it all ended tonight.

Quinton swept his hand across the console, activating the control matrix. Interplanetary communications were routine and had been for decades. However, securing transmissions with such a great range could be challenging. If Rex Dravon wasn’t on his ship the
Marauder,
Quinton might have to leave an encrypted message and wait for Dravon to return his com. Quinton was much too
restless for such a delay, so he was thrilled when the mercenary responded to a simple ping.

A half-scale image of Dravon formed within the holographic matrix. He sprawled in the captain’s seat, looking more pirate than merc. “What’s up?”

Quinton bristled. What sort of greeting was that for a crown stirate? Rather than bothering with social niceties, he dove right to the point. “Have you located your target?”

Following Quinton’s lead, he kept it short and sweet. “Affirmative.” The front section of his ridiculously long hair had been braided in a style much too Bilarrian-like for Quinton’s taste. Dark eyes, with flashing gold phitons dominated his strong features. Even his holo-image emanated brutality. Quinton could see why Edron was troubled by this man.

“Then complete your mission tonight. This has gone on long enough.”

“Copy that.”

“This is a capture, not a kill,” Quinton stressed. “I need him alive, at least for now.”

Rex Dravon looked annoyed by the reminder. “I understand. I’ll com you when it’s done.”

* * * * *

Berlynn blinked repeatedly, waiting for her surroundings to come into focus. When she’d cried herself to sleep it had still been light and now moonlight streamed in through the shutters. This was one of the guest bedrooms at Stargazer Ranch. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long, but she was emotionally exhausted.

Scooting to the edge of the queen-size bed, she swung her legs over the side and sat up. Was Garin still here? It made more sense for him to return to Lunar Nine now that he knew they weren’t genetically compatible. If she wasn’t mate material, he had no reason to spend time alone with her or get to know her better. All they needed for the negotiations was a professional rapport.

She slipped her shoes back on and finger-combed her hair. It had never been her way to hide from conflicts. She’d always faced opposition head-on. So why had she run like a coward from the disappointment of not being Garin’s mate?

The amazing aroma of home-cooked food hit her nose as soon as she stepped out into the hallway. She inhaled deeply, trying to identify the smell. It didn’t matter. If Rachel was cooking, Berlynn was there.

“If you feed them, they will come,” Rachel said dramatically as Berlynn came into view on the railed gallery overlooking the main floor of the big house.

The familiar twist on the
Field of Dreams
quote made Berlynn smile, but the first words out of her mouth revealed the focus of her troubled thoughts. “Is Garin still here?”

Rachel stood on the far side of the breakfast bar, technically in the kitchen, yet visible from the upper level. Though constructed of stripped logs and exposed beams, all of Rachel’s “cabins” were too luxurious for the name. The open floor plan and multi-directional stone fireplace made it feel homey, while the soaring ceilings and massive windows added an unexpected elegance.

“Your handsome general had some errands to run.” Rachel paused to dry her hands on a dishtowel. “He’ll be back in a few hours.”

Berlynn descended the twisting staircase before continuing the conversation. “No he won’t. The only reason he asked me along in the first place was because Haven was unavailable. Danvier contacted Garin this morning and said they’ve begun their return trip, so there’s no longer a reason for me to be involved.”

“You lost me about halfway through that. Danvier and Haven are on their way back from where?” Rachel set the dishtowel aside as she studied Berlynn’s face. “And the general asked you along to do what? Why were you two down here today? I thought Haven was negotiating with the battle born up on Lunar Nine.”

Disappointment rolled through Berlynn as she realized the kitchen was clean. She must have slept through whatever meal she’d been smelling. “How did you hear about Lunar Nine? The battle born are still pretty hush-hush about the place.”

Rachel smiled, apparently reading Berlynn’s expression. “I saved you a plate. Grab something to drink and have a seat at the table. I’ll bring it out.”

More than happy to comply, Berlynn found a diet cola in the refrigerator then moved to the large, rustic dining room. Rachel tended to sit at the head of the table if she had ten guests or two, so Berlynn sat to the right of Rachel’s place and popped open the soda can.