Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind (18 page)

Jerked from the Riochasian LRC and into the gaping maw of
the dark gray limestone walls of the nunnery, Marin could feel the cold cutting
through her clothing. That cold had intensified when she’d been stripped,
shoved under an icy spray of disinfecting water then taken—naked and
shivering—to a room that might well have been the coldest place she’d ever
been.

Forced to stand before a machine that tracked every organ in
her body, Marin had heard the whispering behind her and although she could not
make out the words, she had a good idea of what they had found—Taegin Drae had
given her a child.

At first the thought had thrilled her and she had put a hand
lovingly to her belly, caressing herself where their baby grew. But she should
have known such joy would not be allowed to last, for savage hands had gripped
her and she had been pulled down long, cold corridors until she was shoved into
the presence of the Mother Superior.

She shifted against the uncomfortable chair and winced. Her
back was crisscrossed with welts from the thin leather belt Mother Superior had
laid so vigorously across it.

“Whore!” the Mother Superior had shouted. “Tiogar slut!”

At some point Marin had passed out from the stinging pain
and been revived by hot, searing pain splashing down her back as a harsh
astringent was thrown over her. She had screamed—loud and long—as the caustic
liquid bit into her raw flesh.

“We will rid you of your sins, girl! You’ll not want to open
your legs for another detestable beast!”

Blood had dripped down Marin’s back and when the coarse
material of the habit had been dragged down her lacerated flesh, Marin could
not stop the scream of torment that escaped her lips.

“Mother has ordered a whipping for you each week until you
atone for your transgressions,” the wardess who had dragged Marin back to her
cell informed her. “And you have a lot to atone for, whore. You may count on
months, perhaps years, of retribution.”

The pain of her punishment was not nearly as devastating as
the invasion of her body later that same day. That was revenge she would
remember all her life.

Barely able to keep from whimpering as two stern nuns had
pulled her from her bunk and marched her barefoot to the infirmary, Marin’s
face lost all color when she realized what the Madras were about.

“No!” she yelled as she fought the rough hands that jerked
the habit from her, mindless of the bloody material that clung to the cuts on
her back.

Struggling vainly, kicking out as hard as she could, Marin
had been bodily lifted to the exam table and vicious hands had lashed down her
limbs, anchoring her legs into the stirrups, exposing her privates to the glare
of a hard-faced healer.

“Please!” she begged. “Don’t—”

A large piece of tape was slapped over her mouth,
effectively cutting off her cries. Even though her words had been silenced, her
muted grunts and groans behind the gag, the tears streaming down her cheeks,
her hands spasmodically clenching and unclenching beneath the straps which kept
them pressed tightly to the table, gave evidence of the young woman’s
hopelessness.

Rough fingers had been inserted into her—twisting and
turning, deliberately causing pain. Something icy cold was then jammed into her
and she felt herself being widened.

The healer leaned over Marin and held up a loop-shaped steel
knife so the frightened woman could see it.

“You might say this is my own Tiogar’s scythe, missy,” the
healer said with a giggle.

Awake and feeling every ungodly pass of the curette that was
inserted inside her as the healer scraped her womb, Marin passed out at some
point, the agony between her legs and in her belly more than she could bear.

All trace of Taegin’s seed had been drawn from Marin,
leaving behind a telling emptiness that was far worse than the procedure that
had accomplished it.

“You will bear no beast’s get!” Mother Superior had
promised.

As the ship sped into space, Marin became more depressed
than when she had arrived at Clohar. She missed having her freedom, but she
found she missed Taegin Drae even more. She thought she knew where they were
taking her and if that was the case, she knew the Tiogar would be unable to
come after her. If he did, he would end up in the hands of her mother and that
Marin could not endure.

“Merciful Aneas, please keep him safe,” she whispered as the
runabout shot into the black sky over Clohar. “Don’t let him find out where
they’re taking me.”

The pilot glanced around at her. “You must think it’s a great
honor to have a man give up his life for you, eh?”

Marin stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“The Tiogar has pledged to turn himself in, in exchange for
your worthless hide,” the pilot chuckled.

“No!” Marin shouted, and struggled to break free of the
bonds holding her.

“I’m going to put in a leave chit so I can see them gut him
on Riochas Prime before the entire assembly,” the pilot chortled. “I missed the
last auto-da-fe.”

“Taegin, don’t do it!” Marin screamed, twisting like an
insane woman, breaking open the sores on her back, knowing he would hear her,
though the lead-lined walls of the convent had reflected the probes she knew
he’d sent. “Taegin, please!”

“Taegin,” the pilot sneered, “can’t hear you!”

“Taegin!” Marin whimpered, the name drawn out as tears
cascaded down her cheeks.

“Marin, be still!”

Almost instantly, Marin calmed. His voice had been so
distinct in her ears she thought he was onboard the runabout.

“Like that bastard can hear you!” the pilot said with a
snort.

“All will be well. Stay calm.”

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

“Marin, I can hear you without
y
ou having to
speak,”
he admonished.
“Don’t let the pilot know we are in contact. She
might render you unconscious.”

He told her what was going to happen once she was back onboard
the
Revenge
and warned her to do exactly as she was told. When she
silently asked if he planned to turn himself over to her mother, she could
almost see his Cheshire smile.

“And make you a widow before I even make you my wife? No,
Marin. I have no intention of giving Neala Acet what she wants.”

Marin shook her head for her lover’s words were weaving
their way through her head and causing her heart to skip a beat. She could have
sworn she felt his hand caress her cheek.

“You are mine, Marin. Mine to protect and cherish, and
mine you will stay. Think you I would allow your mother to take you from me?”

He told her she was but an hour’s flight from him and that
he would be eagerly awaiting her return. He also informed her he had been in
contact with the League Forces and should her mother send a fleet after them,
she would be arrested.

“Settle back and watch the fun begin!”
he whispered.

Just as he had promised, within the hour the Riochasian
runabout rendezvoused with the
Revenge
and the pilot whistled as she
took in the awesome bulk of the prison transport.

“I wouldn’t mind captaining that sweet piece of machinery,”
the pilot drawled. She engaged the autopilot then got up and came back to stand
over Marin. “Maybe you’ll get a little kiss from your sweetie before he turns
himself over to me.”

Marin glared at the pilot, keeping her lips tightly shut as
the woman leaned down and unlocked the shackles that restrained her captive.

“Maybe I’ll try him out once I have him in that chair
instead of you.”

“He wouldn’t touch you if you were the last female in the
megaverse,” Marin snarled, and could hear Drae’s laughter wafting through her
head.

“You tell her, wench
,” the Tiogar agreed.

The pilot drew back her hand and slapped Marin. “You watch
your mouth, slut!”

Jerking the young woman to her feet, the pilot shoved her to
the transport pad, keeping well back as the particle beam activated.

Marin felt nauseous as her molecules coalesced aboard the
Revenge
. Before she could react, an interceptor was draped around her neck
so she could not be transported off the Tiogar’s ship.

“You’re safe now, milady,” the female ensign stated. She
flinched when she saw the vivid handprint on Marin’s face.

“Where is he?” Marin asked Petty Officer Janssen.

“Don’t worry about the captain, ma’am,” Janssen said. “He’s
on the bridge. Let’s get you to your quarters.”

“No,” Marin said, shaking her head. “I want to be with him.”

Janssen opened her mouth to argue, but there was steel in
the Riochasian woman’s gaze. “Aye, aye, ma’am,” she agreed.

Taegin glanced at his lady as Marin appeared on the bridge.
He grimaced when he saw the mark on his woman’s cheek. “Come sit beside me,
wench,” he said as a vast explosion rocketed the ship and he staggered beneath
the concussion.

Marin saw the runabout disappear in a trickle of brilliantly
flashing particles. Though any loss of life disturbed her, she couldn’t dredge
up any pity for the pilot of the runabout. There was no doubt in Marin’s mind
that if that bitch had gotten hold of Taegin, she would have hurt him—raped him
in the least.

“That’s assuming my cock would have risen to the occasion,
wench,” Taegin reminded her with a grin.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t have been able to get it up,
Tiogar?” Marin challenged in a low voice.

The Tiogar wagged his brows. “For anyone other than you? Not
likely.”

McGregor got up from the co-command chair so Marin could sit
down. Even before she was seated, the
Revenge
shot forward, pressing her
into the cushions and tumbling the 2-I-C half in her lap.

“Be careful of my woman, McGregor!” the Tiogar admonished,
reaching out to take Marin’s hand as the g-force pushed against their bodies.

“There are nine ships behind us, Captain,” Forbisoe called
out, “and closing fast. Two warships, cannons primed.”

Taegin lifted Marin’s hand to his lips and kissed the back
of it. When she winced, he narrowed his eyes, swept her thoughts for the
reason, and when he learned she’d been whipped while he lay in hard Conversion,
a dark crimson glow shot from those amber orbs and he snarled, barring his
teeth.

“Come about!” Drae ordered, stunning everyone on the bridge.

“Why?” McGregor asked. He was gripping the co-command chair
as the
Revenge
accelerated.

“They hurt my woman and I’ll see them crushed to space
dust!” Drae yelled.

“No,” Marin denied, and when he would have ignored her, she
jerked on his hand. “They had nothing to do with it. Leave them be, Taegin. Let
the League see to my mother and her cronies.”

“They hurt you!” he stated, pain filling his eyes. “They
laid a lash to my woman’s flesh!”

“It would hurt more if I lost you,” she countered. “I don’t
want to take that chance.”

He stared into her face for a long moment as everyone on the
bridge held their breaths, then he relaxed. “Belay that order, Mr. Forbisoe.
Just get us to Ciumhas as fast as you can.”

With a pack of Riochasian Fleet Command cruisers just out of
firing range, the
Revenge
swept quickly toward its destination.

“A League LRC is hailing the Riochasian flagship, Captain,”
the com officer reported. “They’re warning her off but she’s ignoring them.”

“Good,” Taegin said. “Who’s commanding the LRC?”

“Admiral Ben-Alkazar, sir.”

Taegin grinned. “Old Piss and Vinegar, himself, eh? He’ll
fire once across their bow and if they ignore that, he’ll disable them and
arrest everyone onboard.”

“He’s hailing us, sir!”

“Open the channel.”

The admiral appeared on the screen. He was sitting at his
command chair with fingertips pressed together under his chin. A stately
gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair worn close to his head, he sported a thin
goatee that made him look especially rakish. “How are you, Drae?” he asked in a
conversational tone.

“I’m fine, sir. How’ve you been?” Drae returned.

“Going about my business until you streaked by with the
hounds of hell nipping at your heels. What have you done now, son?”

“Do you see this lady beside me, sir?” Drae asked.

Tev Ben-Alkazar sighed. “Aye, who could have missed her?”

“She’s mine,” Drae stated. “They don’t want me to have her.”

“I see, and are you there of your own freewill, milady?”

“Aye, milord. I am.”

“You want that rakehell Drae?”

“With all my heart, milord,” Marin answered.

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose. They’re
trying to take you from him. Is that it?”

“They are trying to take him from
me
,” Marin
corrected.

Ben-Alkazar’s left eyebrow crooked upward. “What’s your
name, sweeting?”

“Marin Deringnoe,” she answered.

The admiral’s lips twitched. “Am I correct in assuming you
are Neala Acet’s daughter, milady?”

“I am, milord.”

The admiral grinned nastily. “Well we can’t have your poggleheaded
lover in
her
hands now, can we, milady?”

“No, milord,” Marin said. “We can’t.”

“So what are your plans, Tiogar?” the Kensetti warrior
inquired, dusting unseen lint from his tunic where a fruit salad of medals
clung to the left side of his chest.

“I would appreciate it if you’d arrest that treaty-breaking
daughter of a demon and get her off our trail, sir,” Drae replied. “If you
don’t, she’ll keep coming after me and any other luckless man in the galaxy
until we’re all ashes in the Wind.”

“I think I can arrange that. And then what?” the admiral
asked.

“There are five women doing com serv at Fiáin. Do you think
perhaps you could have someone pick them up for me?”

The admiral scowled. “Why under Alel’s blue sky can’t you
pick them up, Drae?”