Nightmare Kingdom: A Romance of the Future (16 page)

Only too recently Claire had been confined to the rooms where Mellisande now led them. When they stopped behind the double doors in an obscure and little
known wing of the palace, she knew what she would find on entering.

She tried to control an involuntary shudder of fear and
revulsion as she stepped into a large, open room with a chill smell of medicine in the air. White clad medics of both sexes worked over the patient lying flat on a padded table, while others attended to another in similar circumstances. See through tubes connected to the two in an arch that led from  one to the other.

The small boy on the principal table seemed unconscious, but the slender, pale-haired girl on the other moaned aloud in pain, her eyes closed as though to block out the scene around her.

Abruptly Claire was transported to the past when Mathiah’s ill-fated brother Darin had lain dying on a similar table while his beloved catere Sara Louise was sacrificed at his side. Briefly she mourned that loss of bright youth and then, even more terribly, it was that time not so long ago when she and Mathiah lay in agony on twin tables. She had walked away from her table, but not until she’d witnessed the death of her husband.

She reeled on her feet, nearly falling, and feeling sick to the point of vomiting, but then she heard Jamie’s voice and was brought back to now.

“Alice, Alice baby,” her new husband murmured, placing his hand on the girl’s shoulder. She opened her eyes, twin pools of misery that brightened at the sight of a familiar face.

“Uncle Jamie,” she whispered. “You’ve come for me.”

“You bet,” he comforted her. “We’ll have you right out of here.”

“Is Dad here?”

“No, he wanted to come, but I told him he’d only get in the way, so he had to stay home and take care of business while I came to rescue you.”

The Lady Mellisande emitted a brittle laugh. “How you deceive the girl! Poor child, this man is much a prisoner as you, though he may give you some relief from your sufferings. We certainly want to keep you both alive at least until we can bring back replacements.”

Alice looked from her to Jamie. He patted her poor tortured hand with the wires and tubes stuck in it. “It’ll be all right, Alice,” he said.

She gave a little sigh as though of relief and closed her eyes, sinking into either sleep her death. Claire thought with pity that she hoped it was the release of death.

Frozen with fear, she searched her mind for a way out of this situation even as she watched a still breathing Alice moved away and a new table brought in. Jamie struggled, sending several burly attendants to the floor before he was subdued, placed on the new table and efficiently strapped down. “Get out of here,” he ordered her as they began to pierce his limbs with tubes that would carry burning toxins into his body to mix with his blood.

She didn’t have to imagine how painful this would be. She could remember well enough. It hurt so much that you longed to die, your only fear finally becoming that you would survive to go on hurting hour after hour when you felt as though you couldn’t endure another minute.

She was helplessly considering the possibilities when Mellisande, who was watching the scene with obvious pleasure, suddenly reacted as though something had jolted her long, elegant form. She seemed almost to leap into the air; then she fell to the floor.

She was immediately surrounded by medics and Claire, staring in grim delight, was quite sure that a considerable conversation was going on among the medical professionals. No doubt they were in fear as to what would happen to them if the regent suddenly died in the middle of a hospital room.

The young emperor began to stir, almost as though he recognized his regent’s weakness. He didn’t whimper and moan as had Alice, but gave out a shrill scream. “Help me!” he called.

Jamie who seemed to be a sucker for a child, turned his head the slight inch he could manage and whispered, “It’ll be all right, son.”

Of course Michel who had rarely heard spoken words in his life other than on the rare occasions he’d been in the company of Mathiah and Claire was even more alarmed. He looked wildly from side to side and screamed again.

Claire pushed her way through the crowd of medical attendants to his side. She supposed she felt some sympathy for the poor kid, even if he was only a tool of Empress Mellisande. Speaking in the Aremian common language, she said, “You’re sick, Michel. The medics are trying to help you. Just lie quietly and let them do their work.”

From experience with her daughters through their normal childhood illnesses and fears, she knew not to be too sympathetic. A poor baby attitude transmitted in her voice would only make the boy more alarmed.

She tried to sound upbeat and reassuring and Michel looked at her and recognized a familiar face. “Am I going to die?”

She forced the memory of Darin and Sara Louise from her mind. Dammit if the kid didn’t look a little like Mathiah’s brother with his sensitive, delicate face. “The medics can’t let you die. You’re the emperor.”

He lay quietly for a moment, then stirred fearfully.
“Cousin Mathiah died. He was my only friend. I miss him.”

“Me too,” she assured him and then she had to step back to allow them to continue to minister to him.

Unfortunately Mellisande proved to be still alive, though she looked excessively pale as she was helped to her feet, shaking off assistance as she went to the nearest chair. She glared at Claire, “She did this. That malignant daughter you spawned, she tried to kill me.”

Claire gave her warmest smile, even though all the time she was looking past the woman to where Jamie lay stretched on a table, his lips tight as he tried to refrain from calling out in pain. How well she remembered the heat that climbed in the veins and the aching that turned into knife-sharp agony. Before long he wouldn’t be able to keep from crying out and she didn’t know if she could bear it. She would rather be on that table herself.

Instead all she could do was say in her brightest voice, “I really don’t think it’s within either of my girls
’ ability to harm you all the way from Sanctuary.”

“Blood,” Mellisande spat out the word. “We named the planet Blood. And she did it, your Adaeze, she did something to me from all the way out there in space. I don’t know what it was, but . . .”  She stopped suddenly and seemed to be listening, her face growing red with rage. “She says she sent my blood pressure up. She says she will stop my heart if I allow you to be harmed.”

Claire watched her swallow hard, her constant composure visibly disturbed. She hoped everyone working in that room saw that the dowager empress was not entirely in control of herself.

“Can she really do that?”

Claire shrugged. “I haven’t any idea, but Adaeze’s abilities seem to be beyond measure. If I were you, Mellisande, I would tread carefully.”

With that remark, she went over to kiss Jamie defiantly on the forehead, murmuring for his ears only, “Hang on, darling. I promise something will be done about this.”

He managed to grimace acknowledgement and she stalked defiantly from the room, daring anyone to stop her. She didn’t give way and slump against the wall for support until she was in the hallway out of sight of any onlookers.

Allowing herself only seconds to regain energy, she then set out to look for Alice. Somewhat to her surprise she found the girl in the suite of rooms she and the girls had occupied since they’d been expelled from the imperial apartments. The girl huddled alone on the floor, a puddle of silent misery until Claire knelt at her side to take her in comforting arms. Then she broke into heartbroken sobs, crying softly until she was too worn out to make another sound.

Isaiah’s little girl, Claire reminded herself, indulging in more tenderness than she’d allowed herself in years. Her own daughters would never admit to needing this kind of attention. They were Gare princesses, trained from birth to appear strong whether they felt that way or not. They were like wild birds and knew that any display of weakness would bring someone in for the kill.

She was grateful for the harsh schooling their father had given them. Right now Adaeze’s strength was the only thing that stood between her and torture or even death. She knew for sure now that Mellisande feared her older granddaughter and she didn’t even have an idea of what resources the younger one might have.

With their help, she had to get Jamie and this sobbing child back to safety, but at this moment she had no idea how to do it.

She managed get some warm broth down Alice, then put the girl into Lillianne’s bed and sat beside her until she slept. She needed the girl to be able to walk under her own power when the time for escape came.

Since leaving Earth, Jamie had been forced to grow up early and take on the role of leader of his people. He’d suffered terrible injuries, the latest still not entirely healed, physical
ly and emotionally.

He’d missed his family, lost the love of his life, and endured years of being alone and lonely, but this new test seemed to be leaching the iron from his soul. Within minutes he feared he would be screaming aloud for mercy.

His whole body on fire, his mind bubbled with heat as well. The Gare with their total disregard for his wellbeing were taking away that essential sense of self that made him the man called Jamie Lewis Ward.

Vaguely, as though from a great distance, he heard the weak voice of the boy for whose sake he was being sent to this hellish place. The doctors were fighting for the life of the little emperor, not so much because they valued and loved him, but because he was an object to help preserve the empire’s power and way of life.

He couldn’t regard the kid as an enemy. Hell, he felt sorry for him. No child should have to go through this. Where were his mother and father, his family, to let this happen to a little boy?

All little Michel had was the regent empress who stood like a marble statue only a few feet away, letting them do this to him.

The Gare thought of themselves as heads of a highly sophisticated and successful society, but from his viewpoint, they were barbarians.

As the pain escalated, Jamie began to find himself lost to compassion. He was incased in terror, unable to find refuge in either past dreams or future hopes. The only thing that mattered was that he quit hurting.

He tried to fling himself from the torture table, but restraints kept him in place even as his strength began to fade. He told himself he had to act quickly or he would be too weak to do anything.

His mind seemed to split in two so that he was standing outside himself, looking down at the man with the flame-colored skin who was now whimpering in pain.

“Want to die,” the man on the table told him. “Want it to be over.”

“You’re giving up when they have Claire and Isaiah’s little girl. No telling what will happen to them if you give up.”

“Don’t matter. Nothing matters.” And then, more coherently, “Claire. Claire matters.”

Then they came to add a new injection to the mix being sent into his body and he slipped from unconsciousness.

When he awakened, he heard whimpering and thought he was making that sound. One side of him felt humiliated, while the other didn’t much care, in that strange divided soul in which he now lived.

Then he realized it was the little emperor making that sound like a whipped puppy.
“Hang on, kid,” he whispered, not sure that the weak sound would carry even as far as the adjacent medical table, but feeling he must do something for the boy.

Michel must have heard because he was abruptly quiet. Then he whispered, “Adaeze?”

Jamie was barely aware that at the mention of that name, the empress regent stepped to the boy’s side. “Your cousin is speaking to you? What does she say? What is her message?”

“Bring Mom home,” the child whispered. “Adaeze says bring Mom home.”

Jamie lay still, pushing the pain away from him so he could think. The message was not for Mellisande; it was for him. The princess who so disdained him was pleading for his help.

“I will,” he promised. Nobody paid any attention to him, but he hoped that Adaeze from so far away heard through the brains of the Aremians around him.

The little emperor continued to whisper. “She says I can let go if that’s what I want. She says I don’t have to struggle.”

Then he seemed to speak with the princess’s very words even though the voice was still that of a little boy. “Give the burden to me, little one. I will speak for the Gare.”

The boy shuddered violently and then was still. The empress gave a sharp cry and reached for him, but she was pushed out of the way by the medics who began to work over him. Jamie thought the child surely dead and was surprised when his eyes opened and he began to look around.

“It’s not there anymore,” Michel said. “It’s gone.”

Nobody had to explain to Jamie what had happened. The child was alive, but without the torment of the far speaker abilities and the accompanying disease. Somehow Adaeze had relieved him of his burden.

The empress regent turned away from him. He was no good to her anymore.

Claire couldn’t find Jamie anywhere. When she’d gone back to the medic room neither
he or the little emperor was there. The facility, in fact, was empty except for cleaners who could tell her nothing of what had happened.

The soldiers stationed throughout the palace were not, of course, those familiar members of the imperial guard who  had once served her family, but strangers, members of the regular army who had chosen loyalty to the dowager empress during the brief revolt that had put down the guards. When she spoke to one of them, it was as though he or she couldn’t hear her voice. They responded only to the internal voice of the regent.

But Mellisande, though a talented enough telepath, could transmit her messages no further than the edges of the city and no one seemed to know so far the extent of the young emperor’s talents. The planet seemed to be under control. But as to the worlds beyond, the last word she had was from Adaeze, who told her that they were adrift in chaos.

Her only real concern at this moment was the whereabouts and well
-being of Jamie. Now she sat over the meal she had ordered, barely able to sample the food, but urging a still pale and weak Alice to eat. “We will be making our escape attempt soon. You’ve got to be strong.”

Obediently the girl put a spoonful of food into her mouth and began to chew, though without enthusiasm. When she finally swallowed as though she could barely choke the food down, she asked, “You know how to get us away from here?”

“I’m working on a plan.”

Alice nodded, looking like a girl who had been through a long illness. “And Uncle Jamie?”

“We won’t leave without him,” she promised grimly, adding only inside her own mind, ‘if he’s still alive.’ She couldn’t imagine how she would go on if Jamie was gone, but for the sake of this girl, for her daughters back on Sanctuary, she would have no choice.

The entrance door swung open unexpectedly and the dowager empress strode into the room. Claire wasn’t surprised to see who her visitor was since nobody else would have the authority to enter unannounced.

She reached for her glass and took a sip of iced juice. If the empress expected her to rise in respect, she was more of a fool than Claire thought possible. Alice dropped her spoon so that it clattered to the tile floor with a great deal of noise. She looked absolutely terrified and Claire concluded that the empress would haunt the girl’s dreams for the rest of  her life.

Mellisande had the look on her face that Claire had come to
associate with an Aremian in the midst of telepathic communication.

She began to eat and drink, forcing the dowager empress to either initiate verbal conversation or leave.

Her look turned scornful as she took in Alice’s bedraggled condition. “The child is yours. We have no further need of her.”

Alice began to visibly shake. Claire put a reassuring hand on the girl’s arm. Even though she didn’t feel much better herself, she’d spent half her lifetime dealing with this woman. No more than when facing down a wildcat, did it do to show fear to Mellisande’s face. “The emperor is dead then?”

“No! Certainly not! Your daughter has robbed him of his power. He will never be far speaker now.”

That was interesting. She’d had no idea Adaeze had such a skill. “Does that mean he’s not sick any
longer either?”

“It hardly matters, but that is the situation. He’s just an ordinary child. We’re sending him back to his family.”

Claire knew an instant’s reflection when she wondered if Adaeze could have saved her father from the onslaught of illness. But no, Mathiah had been no weak possessor of far speaking skills; instinctively he might have fought his daughter to the death and she would have lost both of them.

Mathiah in his right mind would never have sacrificed either of his daughters for his own survival. Besides Adaeze seemed to be coming into her talents with the loss of her father, almost as though the planet knew its people’s need for a speaker.

All of this flashed through her brain so rapidly that there was hardly any lull before she again addressed the regent who no longer had any emperor to guide. “So what’s next?” she asked. “You have no further use of any of us, not of Jamie, Alice or me. So we’re free to go home.”

She didn’t make it a question, but a statement. She wasn’t asking a favor of Mathiah’s mere, but issuing a challenge.

“Hardly. The man you brought to Michel is in the dungeons most likely dying. You and this girl can return to the planet Blood when my granddaughters have joined me here.”

So the line was drawn in the sand. She was to choose between her daughters and her own safety as well as that of Isaiah’s daughter. Jamie wasn’t even included in the
equation.

Claire leaned lazily back in her chair. “Tell me, Mellisande, just how loyal are your troops now that there is no emperor? How loyal are the people of the empire to you? Or do they even know about Michel?”

“Oh, the bitch princess has seen to it that they know. My beloved granddaughter has sent words throughout the worlds of the empire.”

Claire frowned. “You mean Adaeze is claiming power?”

“She doesn’t quite dare do that, not when I hold her mother in my hands. It seems your daughters are fond of you, Lady Claire. And they realize that if I am driven to desperation, your life will be forfeit.”

Much like a lapdog rising to defend its companion, Alice rose to her feet. “You will not hurt Claire or Jamie,” she said with such pitiful defiance that Claire blinked back unexpected tears. “I won’t let you.”

The empress laughed out loud for one of the few times in her life.

Jamie came to consciousness to find himself lying against a stone floor in an absolutely classic dungeon that might have come from the middle ages on Earth. Not that he was an expert on the subject, but he had read about such places in the years since he’d come to Sanctuary and spent much of his spare time perusing the files the original settlers had brought with them.

His body leaked blood from various piercings administered by the doctors, who had apparently given up on him back when the emperor ceased being an effective tool. The only thing that surprised him was that they’d bothered to lock him down here instead of dumping him out with the garbage.

He managed to stumble up to his knees, but with the dizziness and weakness that overcame him at the movement, decided not to try to stand. This place was dank and cold and positively stank of hundreds of years of past confinements and tortures.

He called out for help, but the sound only echoed through what seemed like endless caverns. Good Lord, had they simply gone off and forgotten about him, leaving him to die of hunger and thirst.

It was not an encouraging thought and for the first time he considered how useful it would be to have the Aremian gift of mind speech. He sure would like to be able to get a message to someone right about now.

But as usual, he was thrown to his own resources. With Claire and Alice in the hands of that witch of an empress, he must ignore his weakness and injuries to get out of here and help them.

The darkness was so deep that he could see little of what lay around him, but he could feel his way. On hands and knees he began to crawl, ignoring small reptiles and vermin that scurried away from him, as he explored his area of confinement by touch.

Strong as his will was, however, after about an hour of searching, he was overcome by weakness from various recent injuries and slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness. It wasn’t until he
started to float back up to the surface that he began to dream.

He was back at the farm with Gran and Grandpa, only he wasn’t
a kid anymore the way he’d been when he’d last seen them. He was a grown man, past thirty years of age, and he’d come to introduce his new wife to his family.

Gran took to Claire right away and Grand
pa winked and teased him about having such a pretty wife. When he asked about his little sister Marti, Gran looked worried.

“She followed you into space years ago, son
.” she said. “Said she wanted adventures of her own. Didn’t you run into each other out there?”

He didn’t want to worry his grandmother so he simply evaded, “Space covers a mighty big area, Gran. No telling when we’ll meet up again.”

That seemed to satisfy her and when Claire’s daughters walked into the farm house, she greeted them warmly, not seeming to notice that the two didn’t exactly look like Oklahoma farm girls. “Now we’re a real family again,” she said.

Then Adaeze turned and stared straight into his eyes. “Mother won’t leave without you so you must get out of here. I’ve arranged for the barriers to be unlocked. All you have to do is find your way up toward the light that will lead you outside. Mom and Alice are on the third floor in the back part of the rear wing. The guards won’t stop you.”

“Such sweet girls,” Gran said and then he was awake again.

Somehow he was convinced that it was more than a
n illusion, that Princess Adaeze had found a way to reach him through his dreams. Not that he was her concern. It meant that she feared for her mother.

Somehow he managed to draw strength where there seemed to be none left. He’d been shafted, th
an he’d undergone the ‘treatment’ given the young emperor. By all rights he should be dead, but he’d learned a long time ago that impossible things could be done if you just tried hard enough.

He grabbed hold of a rough cleft in the stone wall, bracing himself to get to his feet, then he pushed against the iron door and, confirming his dream, it screeched as it opened and he stumbled forward to find himself standing in a long dark corridor.

Once again he steadied himself against a stone wall, closed his eyes, than opened them again to realize that all was not darkness. A thin gleam of light lit the way to his left.

The dream Adaeze had told him to follow the light. He had no other plan in mind, so with cautious steps he began to
inch forward, now and then touching the wall to steady his passage as things seemed to whirl and dip around him because of his extreme dizziness.

After what seemed like a very long time, but was probably only an hour or so, he found himself emerging to the strong light of day. He stood outside the palace in what looked like a vegetable garden where he stumbled and fell, retching miserably against the ground.

He had to get up and go on. Adaeze had given him directions; he must follow them. In his current state of mind, it did not occur to him to doubt his dream. Later he might try to rationalize the experience and tell himself it was no more than a transference of his fears from his subconscious mind, but right now the directions the princess had given him were all he had to go on.

She had told him to reenter the palace and so, once he was able to get to his feet, he went in the nearest doorway and found himself in an enormous kitchen where about half a dozen people were busy at work.

He supposed the scents of roasting meat and baking bread might have been pleasant under other circumstances, but with the sour taste in his mind and his churning stomach the smells only make him sicker.

Nobody seemed to notice as he stumbled past and this was confirmation of his dream.
Only Princess Adaeze could have clouded minds so that a filthy, blood-covered Earther could move through without being immediately taken back into captivity.

He left the kitchen, following the directions she had given him, barely managing to heave his way up stairs and toward the rear of the central structure, the furnishings and decorations around him growing increasingly elegant as he left the service area.

He didn’t pause as he wondered how he would know which apartments belonged to Claire and her daughters. He’d just keep going and try to find out.

And then as he was fighting against passing out once more, he saw a closed doorway guarded on either side by soldiers in fancy dress. They looked, he thought, like drum majors in a college band.

Adaeze had said they would allow him to enter so he stepped past them, taking a blaster from the closest one without interference, and opened the door.

Claire had spent the time making plans for escape and rejecting them one after the other for practical reasons. She’d managed to sneak off the planet once before, but the likelihood of accomplishing that a second time seemed minimal. And this time she didn’t have the imperial cruiser and a crew of guards standing by waiting to take her away.

By the time she arose nearly sleepless from her bed, she was no closer to working out how she, Jamie and Alice were going to get back to Sanctuary alive.

She’d showered, dressed and was sitting in her chair sipping a cup of the coffee imported from Earth for her special use when Alice tiptoed into the room.

Isaiah’s little daughter might be quiet as a mouse, but she’d roared like a lion when confronting the Gare empress yesterday. Claire would not once again fail to take the girl’s courage into consideration.

“Good morning,” she said.

Alice nodded and tried to smile.

Claire encouraged her to eat and even managed to get down some food herself.