A Thread of Time: Firesetter, Book 1 (21 page)

Chapter 24

Ailana

On the eve of the winter solstice when the
snows had piled in drifts as high as tall man’s head, and the wind howled
against the windows demanding entry, I thrashed about in my bed, a victim of
horrific dreams.  Outside and below me, hanging from the palace gates were the
bodies of four men, boys from the motherland, kinsmen to me, sharing my blood
and the blood of my two sons. 

Inside, their spirits haunted my room. 
Ghostly shadows flew in circles above my head.

“Ailana,” they called out my name.  “You
have forgotten who you are.”

“I am the mother of the next king,” I
declared.  “Go away.  Leave me be.”

“You forsake your kinsmen for your own
benefit.  You shall reap the seeds of your betrayal.”

“Ailana,” Grandmother whispered.  “You
disappointment me.”

“No,” I begged.  “Please leave me alone!”

“Mistress?” the maid said, shaking my
arm. 

Instantly, the ghosts departed and it was
only the wind whistling through the room, which called my name.

“What is it?” I demanded, coming to my
senses.

The maid leaned close to my ear, her sour
breath, invading my nostrils with the scent of failing teeth. 

“The Karut Prince has been captured.  The
guards found him outside watching his kinsman swing.”

“Are you certain it is he?” I gasped,
already knowing the answer before she spoke.

“I saw him, Mistress.  He was dragged
through the courtyards, through the snow.  The King intends to hang him from
the flagpole next to the icicle fountain.”

“In this weather?” I gasped, as my mind
refused to grasp what was soon to be.

“Come see for yourself, Mistress.  The
King summons you to watch the poor lad’s body swing.”

“I won’t,” I cried, refusing to leave my
bed, though curiosity demanded my own eyes confirm what I knew to be true.

“
’Tis
an order, Mistress.  His
Majesty says if you refuse, he’ll send the guard to string you up beside him. 
You are kinsmen in blood, if not more than that.”

I had no choice.  Laboriously, I climbed
from the bed, my heavy body unyielding, refusing to bend, even to slip the
boots upon my feet.

“I’ll help you, Mistress,” the maid
insisted.  “
T’won’t
be long now ‘afore yer prince arrives.” 

She wrapped my warmest cloak about my
shoulders and placed my boots.  Then, with her arm as a cane to guide my way,
we left the safety of my suite for the palace corridors.  Snow and ice lined
our path, for the walkways were without glass and exposed to the elements.

“Mistress,” the King declared when I
arrived at his side on the landing above the snow-laden courtyard.

There directly below me was a boy whose
face was as familiar to me as my own.  Though he was older by many years, I saw
only the child I had held to my breast. 

“He favors Mikal, doesn’t he?” Marko
sneered.  “And, the Great Emperor before him.  Those Karut genes are strong. 
But, I see nothing of you in him.  Perhaps, his bitch was another of Mikal’s
whores?”

“Amyr,” I wept, as the noose was placed
around my son’s neck. 

“Look at him, Karut,” Marko ordered,
putting his hand around my own neck.  “Watch him die.  That is your punishment
for today.  A bastard whelp of Mikal and an adopted son of Rekah shall not
claim the Imperial Throne which belongs to me.”

I lifted my eyes and with them, I tried to
tell my son to be strong. 

“Fight, Amyr,” I whispered just as thunder
roared above our heads and a bolt of lightning seared across the sky.  It
struck the icicle fountain, and with a tremendous crack, split the glass
masterpiece into a million jagged shards. 

Like thunder, the sound of the glass bursting
echoed across the facades of all the buildings, just as the wind rushed into
the courtyard, howling and moaning as the ghosts had in my dreams.  The gales
seized upon the shards, whirling them upward in a lethal tornado before raining
them upon all who stood in the courtyard below.

It was then amongst the screams and chaos
of this deadly storm that the flames of fire arose from the buildings of the
palace. 

“This can’t be!” Marko raged.  “This
palace can’t burn.  It is crafted entirely from marble and stone.”

But, he was wrong for even the hardest
granite could melt if consumed by a fire as hot as that which burned in Hell.

Marko left me, racing across the hallways
to the stairs, saving himself for he cared not for any other.

“Come, Mistress,” the maid cried, urgently
pulling at my arm, leading me through the clouds of smoke and fields of glass
to the ocean’s shore.

By the time, we were far enough away so
the heat did not burn the hair from our heads or skin from our faces, my belly
lurched and cramped.  Water ran down my legs, followed by a tremendous pain. 
Now, I could move no more.  I collapsed in the snow, my blood ushering in the
arrival of my second son. 

As I clutched him to my breast and fed him
his first meal, only briefly did I mourn the death of his brother, Amyr. 
Surely, he had not survived the carnage in the courtyard, especially with his
hands bound and a noose around his neck. 

But, I had.  I had lived to give birth to
another boy, a new prince with no taint or question upon his claim, for here
was my new son, Marek Korelesk, prince and heir to the Imperial Throne.

Chapter 25

Lance

We had just delivered a load of coconuts
to Spacebase 44-C, when Taul and I were sitting in the cockpit playing cards. 
The ship was running well and the endless stars were pretty dull, so I was
dealing out a hand of Gin Rummy while Taul was keeping score.

Taul had been part of crew for more than a
year and I considered him a decent space sailor even though he had only trained
on freighters like the Flying Mule.  Because he lacked SpaceForce experience,
initially, I wouldn’t let him have a gun, until I caught him shooting targets
with Sandy at a spacebase sim center. 

That made me realize he was a pretty good
shot, maybe even better than me, and certainly better than Wen or Noodnick, who
couldn’t hit the side of building from five feet away.  Sandy was a good
marksman, too, a skill she must have inherited from her mother.  Jill had been
known to shoot just as accurately with both hands, which wasn’t the only thing
her hands had been famous for. 

At any rate, Taul and I were slapping down
cards and chewing the fat, when I must have realized that in our course to
Altaris II, we were passing the star system that was once home to the old
Empire.  I pointed that out in between dealing a new hand and fetching sodas
from the fridge.

“I know,” Taul replied.  “That’s where I
am from.”

“Really?”  I hadn’t known that.  Frankly,
I hadn’t known anything about Taul, other than, like I said, he worked on
freighters like the Mule.  “Sandy has an old Imperial coin of mine.  I was once
told it might be worth a whole lot of money.”

“I can take a look at it,” Taul offered,
tipping back his soda.  “I had some coins too when I came to the Alliance. 
Until I got my first job, this was how I managed to eat.”

“So, how did you come here?” I asked,
noting a ship off our starboard bow.  It was moving slowly, too slowly to be
SpaceForce, or an industrial freighter.

Taul shrugged and slapped down a perfect
Gin. 

“There are still old ships and old
skippers around for hire.  I had a guy take me to the nearest spacebase. 
Anything can be bought for the price of a few gold coins.  Your bid, Captain.” 

“Pass,” I said and turned to track that
ship. 

Either unintentionally, or by design, it
seemed to be traveling on a perpendicular vector with us.  Eventually, it sped
up, so it was on a path for a direct collision unless we turned.  In space, a
hundred miles away was considered breathing down your neck.  This guy was
practically within spitting distance of my bow, which made me really nervous
when we crossed paths.  I had to brake so suddenly, it caused all our cargo to
go flying, slamming into the walls of the hold.

“Who is driving this thing?” We heard Wen
shout from the aft cabin.

“Asshole!” I screamed, pounding the
console with my fist.

“Who?  Wen?” Taul asked, reaching for the
cards, soda bottles and chips which I inadvertently sent tumbling to the floor.

“Where in the hell does he think he’s
going?  With all this space around, why the fuck did he cut me off?  I’m going
to follow him.”

“Who, Daddy?” Sandy asked, opening the
cockpit door.

She was dressed in pajamas and her hair
was piled on top of her head.  Fortunately, it was no longer black, but the
brilliant auburn of her birth.  Her big green eyes were half closed and she was
scratching at a zit that had erupted on her chin.  Other than that, I still
considered her the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. 

“That guy.”  Taul pointed at the ship,
which we could now see was a tiny passenger vessel, maybe even some rich guy’s
private plane.  Except it was old, really old.

“That’s an ancient Imperial spaceplane,”
Sandy yawned, “Hard to believe that any of those are still flying.”

“There’s a few still,” Taul said. 
“Although, I don’t think his range is very far.  He’ll probably have to stop at
Spacebase 43 to regenerate his fuel.  That may be why he’s in such a hurry.  It
could be his engine is about to die.”

“Alright,” I announced, setting the Flying
Mule on a new course.  “We’ll follow him there, just in case his plane conks
out.  It’s the law of the stars, you know.  We’re going to save a fellow
traveler in distress and if he makes it without a problem, when we get to the
spacebase, I’m going to punch him in the nose.”

I didn’t know if I would really punch him
in the nose, but at the time, it sounded good.  Frankly, if he turned out to be
an eight-foot tall Cascadian with three rows of shark-like teeth, I’d probably
turn and run. 

In the meantime, I didn’t mind making an
extra pitstop, as the Flying Mule was showing an anomaly on her gear oil
gauges.  One of them was reading hot, while the other was reading cold.  The
transmission pressure was also a little off which may or may not have been
related. 

Without alarming anyone, especially Wen,
who always assumed we were about to die, I figured we’d get the Mule checked
out and have a nice dinner at the best little steakhouse restaurant in space. 

Several hours later, we pulled into the
docking bay to do exactly that.

The ancient Imperial spaceplane was in the
slip beside us and two men were standing right outside, one of them smoking a
cigarette. 

As I debarked the Mule and went to check
the thru-hulls, I heard Taul shout.  He bolted down the ladder after me and ran
to the guy with the smoke.  The two of them hugged, sort of, and clapped each
other on the back. 

“Maybe, his friend,” Wen suggested, gazing
up at the dripping hydraulic fluid which was leaking from the ship.

“Well, since he’s obviously not an
eight-foot Cascadian, I guess I have to hold to my word and punch him in the
nose.  Cutting us off back there probably cracked our whole load of coconuts.”

Leaving Wen to deal with the mechanical
issues, I headed across the bay to Taul and his buddy, who was standing with an
old man. 

I didn’t punch anyone.  I wouldn’t hit an
old guy for his reckless driving.  Furthermore, Taul was very excited to
introduce me to his cousin, who coincidentally, was looking for a job.

“Do you think he could join our crew,
Captain Lancelot?”  Taul practically begged me to take his cousin on, even
though he had no recent experience in working in space, or anywhere else, for
that matter.  “I will vouch for him.  I guarantee he will be useful to our
crew.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.  The guy
looked sleepy, or maybe, he looked stoned.  His eyes were only half open, just
thin little slits, which seemed to sparkle with color.  He also looked young,
probably too young to get a space license.  There was also something familiar about
him.  I could have sworn I had seen his face before.

“We could use another crewman,” Wen added,
now sniffing at the hydraulic fluid on his fingers. 

“I will train him,” Taul assured me.

It was then that I realized where I had
seen him.  He was the guy whose face was on my old Imperial coin. 

Unfortunately, I had no time to consider
this and what it meant, as Noodnick appeared on the boarding steps jumping up
and down.  He made a noise.  A screech, similar to a primal wail, until his
mouth stretched and twisted trying to say a single word.

“What Nood?” Wen asked.  “What’s the
matter?  Tell us slowly.”

“Sandy!” Noodnick pronounced, the first
words ever to be uttered from his mouth.  “Sandy has a run away.”