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Walking back to my hoverbike, arms laden with gifts for Mercy, I glared at Tagar and Nowik. They made no effort to hide their amusement as I puzzled on how this would all fit in the storage compartment. The bastards had known the Clan Podek wives would have presents when they’d insisted earlier we travel by shuttle but omitted to specify the reason. I didn’t care much for being cooped up in the small vessel, especially over such a short distance. Like my woman, I loved speed and never missed an opportunity to ride my bike.
Once again, I regretted not insisting that Ravena… Mercy, come with me on this clan visit. She’d become something of a role model for Braxian females, grateful for her helping them finally get their place in the sun and the recognition they deserved. But more than that, they were thankful for her bringing hope back to so many of the more desperate clans. They already considered her their Dagna, and an increasing number of clansmen had begun thinking of her on those terms as well. Two days ago, I would have been elated; now, not so much.
I had planned on asking her to become my wife at the next quarterly fair. After that difficult conversation, I feared she would think it a ploy to shackle her further to me, to Braxia. How could I get her to see that she was meant for this world? She’d been a free spirit her whole life, used to taking off on a whim to whatever destination called to her soul. As much as it hurt me to admit it, she’d fared just fine without my protection all these years. And, as much as I loved Braxia, no one would think of kidnapping its Dagna for ransom. Greater empires held far more appeal for pirates.
I couldn’t leave Braxia right now, and my heir wasn’t ready to take over my responsibilities. I loved Mercy and would do anything within my power to keep her happy. I’d been so busy trying to get everyone to move away from the old ways to realize that I, too, still clung to some of them. After our argument, I’d actually looked into foreign emperors and rulers. Many had spouses with political or other professional careers of their own which frequently took them off-world without their partner. That it had never been done on Braxia didn’t mean it couldn’t start now. I hated the thought of parting with my woman for any length of time. But if that was what it took not to lose her, I’d make the compromise.
Nowik finally took pity on me and relieved me of some of the gifts, which he tucked into his own storage compartment. We mounted our respective hoverbikes and, with me in the lead, we headed back to my fortress. Security protocols demanded that one of my bodyguards take the lead and the other the rear, with me in the middle, but we’d significantly relaxed some of these rules, especially now that things had been calming down, and the looming threat of civil unrest had abated.
The prospect of new trade opportunities, the surge of employment with so many of the men going back to work with a focus on new resources, had the clansmen in high spirits. A lot of the men struggled with the idea that their females had to work to help bring income to the household. It was their responsibility as men to be the providers. But, in their enthusiasm, the females had been cleverly reminding their consorts that to them, it was nothing more than pursuing the hobbies they already occupied their time with. And that, now, they’d be able to do bigger and better things thanks to the men providing them with more quality resources instead of them scraping for leftovers.
Clever females.
Lost in thoughts of Mercy, I gave myself over to the pleasure of the speed and the wind lashing at my face. As we approached Wincal Ridge, a spark flashed on the side of my bike with a clanking sound, startling me. I couldn’t see anything that could have possibly caused a rock or some other hard debris to fly into the path of my hoverbike; especially not at that angle. When the second clank and spark struck my bike, close to the handles, I finally realized someone was shooting at me.
Heart pounding, I signaled for my men to speed up. We needed to get to safety but were already too far to turn back. I couldn’t see any enemy, and my armband didn’t detect anyone despite scanning on multiple frequencies. Yet, our foes were lurking in the shadows, launching their cowardly attack against us. Ravena had warned me that if the Guldans came back, they would have modified their cloaking shields from the previous setting to avoid detection.
Leaning forward on my hoverbike in a vain attempt to make myself smaller, I tapped my com.
“Magnar?” Krygor answered.
Before I could speak a word, something sharp embedded itself in my leg, the stinging sensation quickly replaced by a rapidly spreading numbness.
“We’re under attack,” I said, my words already slurring. “Protect Mercy and Keran.”
“Protect who? Where are you?” Krygor shouted, his footsteps resonating through the com as he started running.
“Raven—”
Two more darts embedded themselves in my flesh: one in my neck, the other in my arm. My jaw immediately felt slack, and my vision blurred. The vague thought that I should slow down to lessen the impact when I fell crossed my mind. From the crashing sounds behind me, I knew my bodyguards had preceded me into unconsciousness. Seconds later, I joined them.
“Why isn’t he awake yet?” a vaguely familiar voice asked with irritation.
“Relax, Braxian,” a voice with a subtle Guldan accent said. “The shot takes a couple of minutes to neutralize the drug in his system, and then he’ll need a couple more minutes to be functional.”
The Braxian harrumphed, clearly displeased.
Throat dry, head pounding, I felt like I had the mother of all hangovers. Except, no revelry had put me in this state. Trying to remain inconspicuous, I quickly assessed my situation. My body felt somewhat battered, not from any beating but likely from the fall off my hoverbike.
At least, for now.
I was naked, kneeling on some kind of contraption, my face resting in the opening of a hollow headrest. My abductors had not strapped me to it. However, shackles and chains restrained my arms and legs, and a thick metal collar hung a little loose around my neck. The numbness in my limbs quickly faded and my mind cleared.
Mercy…
I prayed she was safe, that Gorav had protected her, and that Krygor had gotten to them in time. Yet a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, that had nothing to do with the aftermath of the drug, told me she wasn’t.
My eyes opened to the sight of gridded, metal flooring, like those found at the back of a butcher’s shop. Ideal to drain the blood of the slaughtered beasts: in this case, me. A hand suddenly fisted my hair and yanked back hard, forcing me to look up at a most hated face.
“Well, well, look who’s awake at last,” Hagan said, his dark-brown, almost black, eyes burning with malice. “I’ve waited a long time for this, you son of a krillik. I’ve waited a long fucking time.”
I saw his fist come at my face as if in slow motion. With a loud clank, the chains on my shackles stopped my attempt to block the blow. It connected solidly with my face. Despite the sting, it barely fazed me. Hagan had never amounted to much as a warrior. But he had me at his mercy. If a single blow from the weak bastard didn’t bother me, the multiple ones he would definitely rain down on me would eventually take their toll. I bit back the snarky remark that burned my tongue. There was no point in further provoking his ire until I had figured out a plan to get myself out of this mess. I could only hope that Tagar and Nowik were okay.
“Your reign is over,MagnarRavik,” Hagan said, stating my title with contempt. “You never learned. And now you will die with the same shame and disgrace that you brought to your bloodline so many years ago.”
My stomach dropped, and my back stiffened. The unspoken fear coursing through me must have shown on my face as Hagan’s twisted smile broadened.
“Oh yeah,” Hagan said with evil glee. “We’ve prepared a very special farewell celebration for you. And you will enjoy the front row seat.”
