The Illegitimate Claim (40 page)

immediately approached her, with their long black lasers pointed directly at her. She

got off her glider slowly, and raised her hands out—palms up.

“I’m here to see Rog, please.” Meah looked from one guard to the other.

The Neurian guards didn’t say anything, but one of them gestured with her laser

that Meah should follow. She walked through the rectangular tents and ignored the

many stares she received. It seemed there were more people in the camp than there’d

been the last time she was here. People, mostly Neurians, were quite busy moving

around in the dark. In fact, the campsite seemed to be buzzing with activity. Her senses

told her they were preparing for something. She glanced around and didn’t notice any

heavy artillery, but Rog always had good connections, and if they were preparing to be

attacked, she felt certain they were properly armed. They didn’t appear to be getting

ready to run.

Meah entered one of the tents after one of the guards pulled back the tent flap for

her.

“Hey, what is this?” Meah turned around quickly when she realized she’d walked

into an empty tent. A lone lantern hung from a rope on a pole and offered enough light

to see that the tent was completely devoid of any furniture or people.

“Wait here. Rog will see you soon.” The guard shut the tent flap and left her alone

in the confines of her cloth prison.

After some time, the tent flap pulled back and Rog smiled at the sight of Meah

pacing like a caged animal. She looked up at him and scowled.

“I want to talk to you,” she began without formalities, and his calm expression

added fuel to her fire. “I’m sick of this, and I can’t imagine you’re having much fun

either.”

“Come walk with me.” He smiled, and extended his hand.

Meah sighed loudly and then followed him out of the tent. She walked with him

down the row of tents, but when he placed his hand on her shoulder, she immediately

shoved it off.

“I don’t feel like we’re friends right now, Rog.” She spoke quietly, not caring for the

handful of guards surrounding them to overhear their conversation. “And I don’t like

that, because not too long ago I would have trusted you with my life.”

“You still can. I don’t want to cause you pain.” Rog looked down at her.

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“Then give Tory back to me.” Meah stopped, and stared up into his coal-black eyes.

“You’re tearing me up inside. I need my son back—now.”

Rog studied her face and reached up to wipe a stubborn tear that insisted on falling

down her cheek. She squinted her eyes shut, and took a step back from him.

“Don’t touch me. You’ve lost that right.” She looked up at him hoping to drive her

pain into him. “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to touch me again.”

“It’s because of Andru, isn’t it?” Rog made it sound like a simple issue.

Meah laughed dryly. “It’s because you took my son.”

“Andru’s not good for you…and this place.” He looked around him. “This place

isn’t good for Tory. He’s already got a wild streak in him. He fights with everybody.

Being here, in Gothman, will only make him fight more.”

This time when Meah laughed it was sincere. Rog looked surprised, and she

realized how different they actually were. She looked around her as well. The tall,

hooded guards pretty much blocked her view of seeing much else.

“Rog, that ‘wild streak’ as you call it, is Tory’s Gothman blood. Yes, he will fight. And

he will be one of the greatest warriors Gothman has ever known. Mark my word.”

Meah remembered Andru pointing out that fact to her not so long ago.

She sighed and walked forward several steps. One of the guards stepped to the side

for her, but she didn’t look at him. She turned instead and faced Rog. “Take me to Tory.

I want to see him. I have to see him.”

“Let’s go to my tent,” he said as he walked up alongside her.

He put his hand on her back to guide her, but then remembering her words, he

removed it and clasped his hands behind his back.

Meah smiled to herself, thinking how different Neurians were from Gothman.

Andru would never quit touching her just because she told him to, not that she ever

planned on saying something like that to him.

Two of the hooded guards stood outside the tent while Rog and Meah went inside.

It was set up like an office with a table and landlink in the middle. Rog offered her a

seat and she shook her head adamantly.

“I don’t want to sit here and have a social chat. It’s late. I want Tory and I want to

go home.” Meah clasped her hands behind her back and stood at attention in front of

Rog.

“Where is home now?” He poured a lavender liquid into two thin glasses and

offered her one. Again she shook her head.

“At the Bryon house,” she said indifferently. “Where else would I be? The children

have the nursery that Andru grew up in, and the house is big and perfect to raise a

family.”

“And you love Andru?”

“Five winters have passed…but I see in him what I was attracted to before.” Meah

didn’t like this interrogation. None of this was Rog’s business.

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Rog sighed. “So, if I give Tory to you, what do I gain from all this?”

“What did you expect to gain?” She really wanted to hear the answer to this

question.

“We don’t want the Neurians to sign a truce with Gothman. I thought I would

convince Lord Darius that we weren’t a people to be pushed around.”

“I think he already knows Neurians aren’t a race to mess with. But Gowsky has

claimed no association with you, and insists you don’t speak for the Neurian nation.”

Meah didn’t see harm in letting Rog know that bit of information.

Rog nodded. “And I’m sure Lord Darius will have nothing to do with the southern

continent until we settle our own affairs.”

Meah shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t begin to think for that man.”

One of Rog’s guards opened the tent flap, and Rog walked up to him. The guard

whispered something to him and Rog patted him on the back then turned to face Meah.

She realized he’d been expecting the guard.

“Let’s go.” He smiled and held the tent flap open for her.

“Where are we going?” She walked toward the tent flap as the guard who brought

the unknown message stepped outside.

The two other guards who stood outside the tent looked down at her, and for one

brief second she made eye contact with one of them. Charcoal gray eyes danced at her.

A gasp stuck in her throat.

“I’m taking you to Tory. That’s what you wanted, right?” Rog’s expression was

serious even though his tone sounded light.

He was worried about what would happen after he returned the child. But he

couldn’t hurt Meah any more than he already had. Hopefully, this conflict was enough

to prevent Gowsky and Darius from signing a truce. He knew it was the only way to

keep these aggressive people out of his homeland.

Meah followed Rog, and the guards once again surrounded them. She didn’t look

up at the gray eyes again, but knew that Andru walked next to her. When Rog turned,

she brushed against the guard and felt fingers brush her palm. Chills ran through her.

She glanced up again as she hurried after Rog and stared Andru straight in the face. His

eyes shot her a warning to be careful.

“I’ll tell you, Meah,” Rog said, as he stopped in front of a group of tents. “I’d love to

take credit for being so clever that I could avoid the many searches the Runners and

Gothman have conducted looking for Tory. Hopefully, my honesty will have some

weight with Crator. We didn’t exactly keep moving Tory around to prevent you from

finding him. He kept getting loose and running away. With Crator as my witness, I’ll be

happy not to worry about him anymore.”

“You mean he kept escaping from you?” Meah asked incredulously. She couldn’t

help glancing up at the hooded guard next to her.

He didn’t look back but she thought she saw a small smile play on Andru’s lips.

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“That boy of yours even took out one of my guards with a tent pole. Now what’s so

funny?”

Rog turned around and put his hands on his hips. Meah stopped just as suddenly

behind him and clasped her hands in front of her. She looked around her, again the tall,

hooded guards made it hard for her to see anything else.

“Are you telling me that Tory is hotheaded…that he doesn’t follow your orders?”

She laughed again, and walked away from Andru so she could see the tents around her

better. She turned around to meet Rog’s gaze, and saw Andru’s face clearly behind him.

“He sounds a bit like his mama, doesn’t he?”

Rog still didn’t smile. Something in the air was wrong, and he studied the darkness

with his black eyes.

“Where’s Tory?” Meah was trying to determine what suddenly made Rog appear

uneasy.

“Did you come alone, Meah?” Rog looked around the campsite.

“Yes.” Meah followed Rog’s gaze and then focused on him.

“Are you sure?”

“I swear to Crator that I came by myself,” she said with a clear conscience.

Meah hadn’t asked anyone to follow her.

Rog studied her for a minute then walked past her to the tent behind her. He

reached for the tent flap, but then paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Can you

guarantee me we won’t be attacked if I return him to you?”

“I don’t have the authority to make that guarantee.” She spoke the truth.

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. When he opened the tent flap Tory bolted

toward his freedom and Rog grabbed him quickly.

“Tory!” Meah’s heart leapt at the sight of her son. She reached out for him, but then

froze when Rog grabbed Tory and held his hand out to stop her.

“I need some kind of insurance, Meah.” She thought she saw panic in his eyes.

Again, he glanced around the campsite but nothing was out of place.

“Swear your loyalty to Gothman,” Tory struggled under Rog’s grasp. “Maybe then