Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind (2 page)

With thick blond hair and striking cobalt blue eyes, the
lieutenant was an exceedingly handsome male. He appeared friendly and
welcoming, and as he ushered the women toward the prison transport, he kept up
a light conversation that put all but Marin at ease.

“We are so happy you ladies volunteered to work at the
women’s prison. Finding teachers to man the classrooms has been a bit of a
dilemma, I’m afraid,” Tarnes told them.

“Volunteered?” Marin asked, reaching out to put a hand on
the lieutenant’s arm. Tall for a woman, she was almost as tall as he. “They
told you we volunteered?”

Tarnes stopped and looked down at her. There was a crimson
stain on his youthful cheeks. “Well, they did say you were doing some sort of
community service. The captain might know the particulars of why you are here,
but he hasn’t shared that with me.”

“Nor does he have reason to share that information,” a deep
voice spoke from behind them.

Tarnes’ body snapped to rigid attention, his arms straight
at his sides. “Aye, sir. No, sir. You do not, sir!”

“Carry on, Mister Tarnes.”

“Aye, sir. Thank you, sir!”

Marin was keenly aware of the black-robed figure who swept
past them. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she stared at the
captain’s broad back while he boarded the transport.

“He’s enough to make you tow the line, ain’t he?” one of the
other women commented.

Tarnes relaxed and ran a hand over his face. “The captain is
strict but he’s a good man to work for. I am lucky to have been assigned to the
Revenge
.” He swept his hand toward the transport. “She was commissioned the
year I graduated the Fleet Academy, so I was privileged to be on her maiden
voyage. The captain was given the honor of naming her since the Fiáinnian
Tribunal personally gave him command of her.”

“Isn’t that rather unusual?” Simone, one of the women,
asked.

“Aye, it is, but in the eyes of the Tribunal, the captain’s
father was a martyr and the ship was built in his memory.”

“A martyr?” Iadella asked, swallowing. “What do you mean?”

“You ladies know what happened on Riochas Prime, don’t you?”
Tarnes inquired.

Iadella glanced at Marin. “You mean the civil war among the
Riochasians?”

“Aye,” Tarnes said. “You know why the war was fought?”

“For female equality,” Simone snapped, her gray eyes blazing
with hatred. “The women of Riochas were tired of being second-class citizens
and at the beck and call of any male with enough money to purchase them. The
Madras rose up, shook off their shackles and took what was rightfully theirs.”

Tarnes scratched his head. “Well, there was more to it than
that.”

The women exchanged puzzled looks but Simone cursed in her
native tongue. “Do we look like country bumpkins who’ve just fallen off the
turnip cart?” she groused. “We know what happened during the conflict.”

“There are two sides to every war, ladies. The winners
usually have one opinion and the losers another,” Tarnes stated. “The
winners—in this case the Madras—went a bit too far when they murdered innocent
men.”

“Murdered innocent men?” Simone hissed. “What of the women
who died at the hands of the male Riochasians?”

“Ladies,” Tarnes said in a reasonable voice, “that was war.
Combatants die in war.”

“Aye, they do and they died horribly in battles such as the
one at Imeagla Point. The Madras were slaughtered there!”

“That may be true, but—”

“There isn’t any ‘may be true’ about it!” Simone shouted,
not caring who heard. “You bastards—”

“Ma’am, I am a Contúirtian,” Tarnes said, his own ire
rising. “I wasn’t even in the Fleet when all that happened and, even if I had
been, my people had nothing to do with what the Riochasians—male or
female—did.”

“Why is it when men fight, it is war and they are held up to
be heroes. But when women fight, men mock them and accuse them of being
criminals?” Simone spat.

“I didn’t call the Madras criminals, my lady,” Tarnes
denied.

“You might as well have,” Simone threw at him. “It is
obvious you took the side of your sex! You have no concept of what it was like
to be bought and sold to the highest bidder, to spend your life in subservience
because you were considered nothing more than chattel. Madras women were traded
and sold by their menfolk until they could no longer stand the feel of shackles
around their wrists and ankles!”

“So they rose up and did a wholesale slaughter number on
their menfolk,” Tarnes said, his jaw set. “The gas Mulla Xul created to poison
the Madras males took the lives of every Madras male—no matter his age!”

“Mulla Xul was insane,” Simone shouted. “No one knew what
she was about until the children started dying. The Madras did not condone what
that mad scientist had done. Xul was assassinated, her creation destroyed.”

“Aye, well by then it was too late and the men of the Tiogar
Clan had tried to save the innocent male children. The men ventured onto Madras
lands with nothing more than mercy on their minds, with no thought of
conquering the Madras. We all know what happened then, don’t we?” he threw at
her. “The Madras extended their war to the Tiogar—who had never done anything
to the women of the Madras clan—and all hell broke loose on Riochas Prime.”

The workers on the docks had stopped to listen to the heated
words of the beautiful young woman railing at Tarnes. A few had blank looks on
their faces but many had angry looks and were nodding in agreement to his
words.

“Tiogar men killed Madras women,” Simone snarled between her
teeth. “They went after the leaders of the Madras and tried to annihilate
them.”

“That is true, but only to try to stop the war,” Tarnes
agreed. “But that is in the past. Things are different.”

“Oh, aye, things changed all right!” Simone sneered. “The
Madras won their independence and freedom. They defeated the Tiogar Clan and
took over the entire planet. The Madras won because they had right on their
side. We, like our Madras sisters, will fight for our rights!”

“I hope you don’t,” Tarnes said through clenched teeth. “And
I suggest you don’t make any mention of any of this within the captain’s
hearing. He might take exception to your rhetoric.”

“W-why is that?” Iadella inquired.

“Because his father was one of the men executed by the
Madras during the war,” Tarnes replied. “There wasn’t much love lost between
father and son, but the captain’s father was a national hero to our people and
he vowed to avenge the man’s death. In a strange way, I suppose the captain
admired his father.”

“Who was his father?” Marin whispered.

“Captain Seamus Drae of the Riochasian Fleet Command,”
Tarnes replied.

Marin felt the hairs stand up on her arms and could not stop
the shudder that ran through her.

“Sweet Aneas!” Iadella gasped. “Please don’t tell me you
mean… The captain isn’t a… He can’t be a…”

Tarnes’ face creased in a frown. “The magistrates didn’t
tell you Captain Drae is a Tiogar?”

“The Tiogar Clan was destroyed during the rebellion,” Simone
stated.

“Not all of them,” Marin said quietly, and when Simone
turned shocked eyes to her, she held the woman’s stare. She shrugged
helplessly. “Apparently at least one bloodson of Seamus Drae survived. The
Madras has a bounty on his head.”

“A bounty he finds amusing,” Tarnes said. “The captain’s
five cousins were believed killed during the conflict. To his knowledge he is
the only member of his family to have survived.” His lips tightened. “We
Contúirtians hid several wounded Fleet members in the Contúirtian Alps during
the wholesale slaughter of men on Riochas Prime, Captain Drae among them. He
nearly died at the hands of a Madras general.”

“So he has no love for Riochasian women,” Iadella whispered,
looking over at Marin.

Tarnes shook his head. “No, ma’am, he does not. No more than
any of us do. The men of our galaxy were horrified at what the Madras did after
they won the war. Reaching out to try and subjugate other worlds in their quest
to be the mistresses of the galaxy did not set well with warriors far and
wide,” Tarnes stated.

“The battle on Fireannach proved that,” Marin reminded her
friends. “The Madras were outnumbered and outgunned. They learned a very hard
lesson during those three days of bloodshed. Many women lost their lives.”

“I agree the Madras should have been content with winning
their freedom on Riochas. I was amazed that they tried to take over other
planets,” Iadella said. “That was a grave mistake.”

“At least they learned from that mistake and have kept to
themselves,” Tarnes said. “It took a dozen years before there were relations
established with Riochas and, even then, it has been a limited contact. The
League of Planets was forged so such a thing wouldn’t happen again. As I’m sure
you know, they put restrictions on the Riochasians hoping to keep them in line.
Should they venture past their airspace and into League territory for any warlike
purpose, they will be arrested.”

“When do you suppose that mighty League of Planets will
allow Riochas Prime to join their hallowed ranks?” Simone demanded.

“When they prove they can be trusted,” Tarnes told her.

“Or until men once more rule Riochas Prime?” Simone scoffed.

“Both Baineannach and Iontach belong to the League and there
are no men ruling those worlds,” Tarnes reminded her. “To my knowledge males
aren’t even allowed on Iontach. Correct me if I’m wrong, but all male children
born to Iontachian women are sent automatically to Fireannach.”

“At Tribunal order,” Simone snarled. “The Iontach have paid
dearly for siding with the Madras during the war. Among the other members of
the League, Iontach is the only world not allowed a vote in the Tribunal!”

“That’s only because the Iontach refuse to send a
representative
to
the Tribunal,” Tarnes said in an exasperated tone,
“just as Baineannach has. You can’t have representation if you do not have a
delegate.”

“Are there Riochasian women at the penal colony on Fiáin?”
Marin asked quietly, wanting to change the subject. The talk of war depressed
her.

“We’ve never transported a Riochasian woman and, to my
knowledge, there are none at the colony,” Tarnes answered. “But there is no
need for you to be concerned. As Laidineach, you—”

“What if one of us was Riochasian?” Iadella interrupted.

Tarnes sighed. “Then we’d have something to worry about,” he
said.

Marin swallowed against the lump that formed in her throat.
Iadella was D’Nelian but the others were, indeed, Laidineach, except for Marin
who had been born and raised on Riochas Prime, the daughter of Neala Acet, the
Grand Leader herself. Acet was the woman responsible for attempting to wipe out
the Tiogar Clan during the war. It would not matter to Captain Drae that Marin
had no love for her mother and had rarely seen the leader of the Madras during
Marin’s years in boarding school on Laidineach. Her Riochasian heritage would
surely condemn her in the eyes of the Tiogar.

“Would he hurt her?” Iadella wanted clarified. She was
Marin’s oldest and dearest friend.

“What are you babbling about, ‘Della?” Simone snapped,
reaching out to push Iadella. Her eyes were narrowed in warning. “These
hypothetical scenarios of yours do get tiresome. I, for one, am sick unto death
of your fantasies and make believe what ifs!”

“Iadella is a Shanachie, Simone. It is her nature to make up
stories,” Marin mumbled. She tugged nervously at the long blonde braid that
fell over her shoulder.

“You are D’Nelian?” Tarnes asked, his eyes twinkling. “I
should have known such a lovely lady would come from that blessed Isle.”

“She has a tongue on her,” Simone grumbled. “That’s for
sure.”

Iadella lifted her chin. “I just want to know what to expect
if—”

“Mr. Tarnes?” one of the workers called out. “The captain
says to hurry up.”

“Ladies, we need to get onboard,” Tarnes told them. “As I’ve
said, you’ve nothing to worry about so let’s just get you to your quarters
and—”

“You mean our cells,” Simone grunted.

“No,” Tarnes said. “You are not prisoners. You will be doing
community service for whatever transgressions you committed.”

“We are political prisoners,” Simone informed him with
pride. “We spoke out against the League of Planets and are being punished for
our beliefs.” She narrowed her gray eyes at him. “That makes us political
prisoners.”

“We egged the Chief Tribunalist’s runabout,” Caro, the
shortest of the six women, giggled. “That was our way of speaking out against
old man Rigel and his policy of no women in government.”

Tarnes grinned. “You egged a Tribunalist’s ship?” His lips
twitched. “Oh, you evil women. Perhaps we should put you in isolation for such
a violent crime.”

“They egged the ship,” Uneta, the largest of the six women,
corrected. “I kept watch.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell the guys in the mess to keep all
eggs out of your reach,” Tarnes chuckled. “You will be in crew quarters and not
on the prisoner decks. I’ve assigned you three to a room so it should be a
comfortable journey for you.”

“You do have prisoners onboard, though, don’t you?” Dealese,
the tallest of the women, asked.

Tarnes’ smile slipped from his mobile lips. “Aye, ma’am, we
do. Some are dangerous felons on their way to the Saothar Penal Colony after we
drop you at Fiáin.” He held his hand out, indicating they were to continue on
into the ship.

Marin looked up at the black expanse of the prison transport
and felt her knees grow weak. She wanted to turn and run as fast as she could,
but knew if she did, she would be caught before she got out of the docking bay.
She flinched as she felt a touch on her hand and jerked around to see Iadella
standing close, threading her fingers through Marin’s.