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Authors: Tyler Chase

Van Laven Chronicles (26 page)

BOOK: Van Laven Chronicles
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CHAPTER 49

 

The harsh cold crept into Comron’s consciousness like icy fingers against his skin. He shivered, feeling as if he were emerging from the black waters of Rhaegor’s River back home. But that couldn’t be, he thought, fighting for full awareness. His chest and abdomen ached from the harness straps that held him fastened to his seat. His eyes opened to slits. Blinking red lights lit the dark cabin. He remembered then that after the attack he’d been forced to land.

“Vaush!” he looked over as she stirred in her seat. She opened her eyes and an enormous sense of relief washed over him.

“Are you injured?” he asked, releasing his harness.

She grimaced and rubbed her shoulder where the harness held her. “I’m fine. You?”

He quickly went to her and helped her out of the harness straps. “Never better.”

She shuddered from the cold as her breath turned to fog. Through the windshield, they could tell that the whole cockpit was buried under the snow. The vessel was tilted forward with the aft jutting upward.

“I can’t believe we made it.” Vaush said and climbed toward the aft to join him.

“Don’t start celebrating just yet,” Comron warned. “It won’t be long before someone traces our trajectory to this location. It would be best to put some distance between us and this ship.” He worked the latch on the overhead storage bins. “There should be some blankets somewhere around here.”

She stood and steadied herself against her chair. “Can the vessel be salvaged?”

When he pulled open a second storage door, two folded blankets fell out. “It doesn't take a fusion engineer to see that the engines were completely fried.” He took a deep, ragged breath which turned to an icy fog. “We'll have to travel to the nearest town on foot. We’ll find more transportation there.”

Frowning, Vaush rubbed her arms under her cloak. “But if it’s this cold in here, how long are we going to survive out there?”

He shook out one of the blankets and eased his way back down to her. “It’s only going to be a matter of time before they figure out where we are, Vaush. If we leave now, at least we’ll have a fighting chance to survive.” He wrapped the blanket around her. “Look.” He showed her a plastic knob on the blanket. “It’s a thermal blanket, we’ll stay warm enough.”

“How far do you suppose the nearest town is?”

If the engines hadn't failed, Comron could have placed them within half a mile of the village. But as things were, he imagined they were two to three kilometer away. But in subfreezing temperatures, and lack of proper clothing, he feared the trek could be deadly. “Not far at all.” Her worried expression remained.

He pulled his blanket on over his coat. "Come on, I’ll have you in front of a warm fire in no time.” Despite his bruised face, his lopsided grin still managed to make her blush. “That’s better.”

After slinging two combat rifles onto his back, he struggled with the aft door of the vessel.

“Frozen shut?” Upon her last word, he forced the door open, only to be savagely assaulted by stinging snow and howling wind. From what he could observe, it was dusk and night would come soon. With the falling temperatures, it wouldn’t be long before hypothermia would set in.

He turned back and saw that Vaush had already pulled her fur trimmed hood on. Still, he drew her blanket up around her head. “Keep your head covered,” he told her over the howling wind.

He climbed through the door and jumped down, sinking knee deep into the snow. “Come on,” he yelled, stretching his arms out to her. Without hesitation she leapt forward and sunk thigh deep the white powder. She clung to him.

“Don’t worry. We’re just in a snow bank. It won’t be this deep the whole time.” He urged her forward. “Now keep moving or we’ll freeze.”

True to Comron’s word, the snow only reached her calf as they progressed. Not that it was of much comfort in the frigid temperatures, Comron thought. If only the wind would stop blowing, he was certain the trek would be endurable.

The thermal blanket felt useless now as the cold cut through to their bones. The sun was sinking fast below the horizon and the temperature followed. To make matters worse, visibility was so poor that even if there were a village thirty feet in front of them, he feared they would miss it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 50

 

In the driving snow and harsh wind, Vaush Bastionli-Hrollaugr forced herself to keep moving to maintain Comron’s steady pace. She peered out at the gray horizon, but saw no sign of a village. At only an hour in she could barely feel her extremities and yet her legs burned as fatigue tugged heavily on them.

It’s Patheis all over again…this time in the freezing cold.

If only she could rest for a moment to regain her strength, surely she would fare much better. But instinct told her stopping in this blizzard would mean their death. Marshalling her internal forces, she trudged on silently. She willed herself to focus on something other than the numbing cold. She thought of Laney and wondered if she’d managed to elude the Ti-Larosian authorities that hunted her. If anyone could, Captain Laney Hunner could. Forgive me, Laney.

She thought of her sister, Hellena and her family. Had Larrs abandoned his search for Vaush in order to save his true biological daughter? Intuitively, she knew the sad answer to that question. She offered a silent prayer that Larrs would spare a few men to go rescue Hellena.

She thought for a moment, about her deceased mother. She’d been defiant and resolute, demanding that if the Emperor desired her, then he would honor her as his principal wife. She half smiled to herself. Hadn’t she done as much with Comron, insisting that he end his betrothal if he ever hoped to have her in his life?

Would her mother’s fate be her own? Had her mother been a fool to believe she could outplay the establishment on their own turf?

“What did it get you in the end, Mother?” she whispered into the wind.
You were ripped away from the man you loved and were brutally cut down before you could raise the child you’d born him. I was left to be raised by strangers who saw me as nothing more than a lucrative pawn to be played.

She wondered what she would have counselled her mother had she been a friend at that time.

Consider your common origins. Be grateful that an Emperor would consider you beyond a mere dalliance. Even a position as concubine or third wife would have meant enormous privilege…

Vaush shook her head sharply and decided that she was proud of her mother for knowing her worth and demanding that she be honored as such despite what it cost her. Had she not, Vaush would not be here and certainly would not be heir to the Imperial throne.

My mother sacrificed herself to give me a grander legacy! I owe this to my mother to become what she had envisioned for me so that she will not have died in vain.

Vaush used this thought to drive her on, to keep fighting past the pain and sense of hopelessness. She gazed up into the dark gray sky as the heavy snowflakes fell upon her face. Any minute now, their pursuers could sweep down and seize them. Kill them is more likely, she corrected herself.

Vaush’s gaze fell upon Comron but he seemed to move steadily farther away from her. She trembled uncontrollably as she endeavored to pick up her pace, but her legs refused to cooperate. The harder she tried, the more energy drained from her, weakening her frame.

To her bewilderment, Vaush realized she was no longer moving. She was a statue frozen in time. She tried to call out to Comron, but her throat was so dry, no sound emerged. Completely spent, she fell into the soft snow and heard it crunch serenely beneath her. Again she tried to call out but failed.

Soothing sleep fell over her like a warm blanket. She told herself that she'd rest for just a few seconds then catch up with Comron, and together they would reach Novoxos and avenge her mother. That was the last thing she remembered.

 

As Comron trudged on through the snow his spirits began to wane. Was it possible he had set out in the wrong direction? It had been nearly two hours and yet he saw no trace of a village. The cold cut through to his bones and exhaustion gnawed at him. He knew that if he was feeling the strain, Vaush must be nearly worn out. Every five minutes he'd look over his shoulder to make certain that she was close by. But when he looked back this time, his heart stopped and a thousand needles pierced his chest. Vaush was nowhere in sight.

He called out to her over the howling wind but heard no response. Immediately, he began to backtrack. His heart pounded fiercely as his eyes darted about in search of her. He’d just seen her a few minutes ago; she couldn't be far behind. The blowing snow quickly covered tracks laid just seconds before. His head began to spin as disorientation set in.

Finally, he spotted an irregular lump in the snow. With renewed vigor he ran toward it and fell to his knees.

“Vaush!” he cried, as he brushed the snow off her. With her lying face down, he couldn’t tell whether she was dead or alive. He dragged her into his arms.

“Vaush, no, no,” he cried, shaking her. “Wake up, love, please wake up!”

She remained limp and unresponsive in his arms.

Removing his own blanket, he wrapped it around her. Guilt wracked him. He should have kept a closer watch on her. This grueling journey was just too much on a person not accustomed to such exertions.

Slapping her frozen cheek, he tried to rouse her. “Vaush, please, wake up!” He held her face to his and rocked her. “Come back to me, love. Please don’t leave me,” he kept saying.

He slapped her face harder this time, refusing to believe she was gone. The truly terrifying thing was that if they didn’t find shelter soon, they’d both be dead within the hour.

Her lips moved a bit, her eyes fluttered open.

“Vaush!” Comron cried, hugging her to him. “Oh, Vaush.”

“I-I'm so…t-tired.” Her teeth chattered.

“It's only a little bit farther,” he lied. But just then he looked out over the horizon and caught sight of a glowing light in the distance. “I can see it. It's just a little farther!”

“Y-you go and get help. I'll w-wait.” Her eyes closed to slivers.

“No, Vaush, wake up!” He wrapped her securely in his blanket, then hoisted her into his arms and started out toward the glowing light. He prayed to any god who would listen that it was the village and that he could get her there in time. He quickened his pace as desperation pulsed through him. Without his blanket wrapped around his head, it was completely exposed to the elements. He felt the frost forming on his face as the harsh wind froze his ears. But his legs had a mind of their own as they steadily propelled him forward, closer to his destination.

He could no longer feel his arms, but they remained locked around Vaush. If he failed, this is how Crausin would find him, frozen with his arms wrapped around the woman he loved. But his legs carried them on, unwilling to fail, unwilling to concede defeat while there was still breath in his body. After what seemed a frozen eternity, Comron reached the outskirts of a village.

It was nothing more than a few crudely constructed tin shacks and wooden huts. They used some sort of primitive generator to light the small village. The first dwelling’s roof was half caved in and there were large cracks between the planks of gray rotted wood, but to Comron, it looked like heaven. Numb over most of his body and suffering from extreme exhaustion, he stumbled toward the door and gave it two swift kicks.

Soon, a stocky, dark haired man appeared, staring wide-eyed at the half frozen stranger at his door.

Comron's teeth chattered uncontrollably. “P-please s-save m-my wife.”

The man opened the door wider and beckoned him forward. With his last bit of strength Comron stepped over the threshold and collapsed onto the floor with Vaush in his arms.
Mercy take us,
he thought as he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 51

 

Warmth spread through Comron's body, bathing him in luxurious comfort. He felt himself being pulled down deeper and deeper into currents of consciousness. His head swam and his body floated in weightlessness. The sensation was foreign, and yet somehow familiar. Was he ill or perhaps dying? No, it was something else he'd experienced before. The fog in his head lifted a bit as he recognized the sensation. I’m drunk.

A multitude of questions all clamored for answers. The most important of which were -- where was he? And where was Vaush?

“Vaush…” his lips were cracked, his mouth dry.

The last thing he remembered was stumbling through the doorway of the first hut he happened upon. Every step he'd taken had been filled with agonizing uncertainty. Vaush had been unconscious the whole time and he had serious doubts concerning the quality of the medical care he’d find in this primitive environment.

His heart beat faster and the fog lifted, full consciousness returned. When he tried to move around he realized he was naked underneath warm blankets and animal hides. When he turned to look to his side, he was startled to see a young, dark-haired boy standing there staring at him.

The boy made a joyful sound upon seeing Comron’s eyes open. This drew the attention of the other adults in the small dark room that reeked of animal hides, stale perspiration and boiled meat. A stocky woman in woven tunic and fur vest approached with a broad grin. She began speaking in a tongue that took Comron a few moments to decipher. It was an obscure dialect of Arcanese. He could only make out the most rudimentary words.

The woman felt his forehead and bid the boy bring her something.

“My wife.” Comron remembered calling Vaush that, in hopes of gaining more sympathy for their condition. “Where is she?”

The woman looked curiously at him for a moment then seemed to understand. She smiled and pointed over to another corner of the room. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he made out Vaush’s form sitting up in her own cot, while a young girl fed her soup.

He breathed deeply and closed his eyes in supplication. Thank you. He opened them and looked at the woman. “We are in your debt.”

Just then the door opened and someone bound in heavy clothing entered. The woman and the boy approached, helping him with his thick fur coat and the bundle he carried. Comron recognized him as the man who’d originally greeted him at the door.

He gazed at Vaush, who was now staring back with mutual relief. She was wearing a simple oversized tunic, obviously one of the host’s garments. “Comron,” she mouthed the word and attempted to get out of the cot. But the girl cautioned her to remain in bed and after Vaush’s head swayed, she saw the wisdom of the child’s advice.

The older woman unraveled the bundle, revealing some sort of furry animal, limp and lifeless. Right away she took a cleaver to it and began preparing it for their meal.

The man approached Comron. With great effort, Comron propped himself up on an elbow. The man put out his hands to keep Comron still and began to speak in a pleasant tone.

His name was Nacum. This was his family and his home. Nacum asked him for his name. Comron hesitated for a second, fearing that they would be recognized, but he knew these people were disconnected from the world beyond—intentionally so. Still he chose to err on the side of caution.

In his best Arcanese he replied, “My name is Cristof and she is my wife, Terra. We both thank you for your kindness and hospitality.”

Nacum looked over at Vaush, smiled and nodded. His face then became creased with concern. He asked how it was that he and his wife happened to arrive at his door.

It was a perfectly logical question, but Comron remained wary. “We were traveling on our way to visit family when we experienced engine failure and were forced to land.”

Nacum nodded.

Comron knew his host didn't believe him, probably because he’d entered their home with the two high-powered rifles on his back and no doubt he’d seen all the scars that marred Comron’s flesh.

He wondered if word of the bounty had spread to the village. While lying there, he surreptitiously searched the room for their belongings. Spotting them in a corner of the room, he satisfied himself that he could get to them quickly if circumstances necessitated it.

“How long have we been asleep?”

Nacum indicated they had been in his home for twenty-four hours. Comron shot up in bed, attracting Vaush's attention. Nacum motioned him to remain as he was.

“Please, I need my clothing.”

Nacum and his wife exchanged curious glances. He told Comron that they were both too weak to travel. Besides, just after they arrived a blizzard set in, making it impossible for travel, even for the local villagers. The storm would likely not lift for another day.

Comron's head throbbed with pain. They were trapped here. But hopefully the storm would bury their cruiser along with any trace of them. For now it would be best to regain their strength. He suspected that no one in this village possessed a space-worthy craft. When they were well enough, they'd be forced to travel to the nearest town to acquire transportation.

He peered over at Vaush, who stared back expectantly. He wasn't certain if Nacum and his family understood any language other than their own, but he had to talk to her. "We’ve been here for a day already but with the storm I think we'll be safe."

“I agree, but Laka said the storm won't lift for another day. Can we afford to wait?”

“We don't have a choice. Nacum said that even the villagers can't travel now.” The family seemed to be curious about what the strangers were saying, but there was no sign that they understood. “If no one can get out of this village, then no one can get in.”

“But what about information?” she asked shrewdly.

That was the true fear. What would this kindly family do if false stories described him and Vaush as dangerous fugitives on the run? Comron wouldn’t put it past Recaban.

“Get dressed,” Comron told her. “We'll stay here and regain our strength, but we need to be ready for anything.”

 

That evening, Vaush had made her way over to Comron’s side. She knelt next to his cot and stroked his face. His eyes fluttered open, he smiled weakly.

“How are you feeling, Cristof?” Vaush asked with a smirk.

“Alive.”

“We both are, thanks to these good people.” She glanced at the family reclining around a small iron stove. “And thanks to you.” She took his hand, lifted it to her face. “They told me how you carried me through the snowstorm, left yourself exposed so you could keep me warm in your coverings. Darling, you nearly died.”

He breathed deeply and held her gaze. “I thought you were dying. Nothing else mattered.”

She kissed his hand tenderly, and brushed her cheek against it. “Your love carried us through that storm, nothing else could explain it.” She looked down the length of him. “You’re recovering well. Nacum’s wife is a gifted healer and managed to stave off the frostbite that was taking hold.”

He looked at his hands and wiggled his feet. “So I still have all my parts.”

She chuckled softly. “All the important ones anyway.” She gazed lovingly at him and gently stroked his hair. “Are you hungry, my love? Elya has made a hearty stew.”

His stomach grumbled as if on cue.

“Ah, I’ll take that as a yes,” she rose from his side. “I’ll just be a moment.” She returned with a steaming wooden bowl and brown bread. She set it aside and helped him to a seated position. “Easy there, I’m convinced that the medicine they’ve given us is one part healing agent and two parts hard spirits.”

“Well, that would explain why I feel like I’ve been in a tavern all night.”

“They’ve been so kind to us, Comron,” she said as she fed him the stew. “They live a very humble life but offer all that they have for our comfort. If we make it to Novoxos, I’d like to do something for them and their village to repay their kindness.”

He glanced over at them and nodded. “I’d like that too.”

She grinned. “You see, I’ll make a philanthropist out of you yet.” She fed him another bite. “But first we need to get you well so that we can travel once the storm lets up.”

“There’s no telling what information, if any, the Forrel fighters were able to transmit before they went down,” Comron said with a look of concern. “But I’ve got a sinking feeling that by now Anchorii is crawling with hunters seeking us.”

She shook her head slowly and gave him another bite. “We have no transportation and Novoxos seems further away than ever.”

“They haven’t found us yet, Vaush. So don’t lose heart on me.” He stretched, arching his back. “Look, I’m already regaining my strength. When I’ve finished eating I’ll get dressed. We’ll get one more night’s sleep and we’ll be on our way at first light.”

“If the weather permits.” She shuddered out the idea of going back out into the frozen wasteland.

“I’ll inquire about ground transportation. As primitive as it likely will be, we won’t have to travel on foot again. We’ll find the closest city and find a space transport there.”

She stared at the empty wooden bowl and scraped absently at the sides.

“Hey,” he said, tilting her chin up to look at him. “A little faith here. What will it take to restore your confidence in me?” His eyes narrowed. “Shall I wrestle another crogodan for you or perhaps a saber tiger?”

She laughed despite herself. “You enjoy teasing me.”

“I enjoy doing a lot of things to you,” he said in a sly voice as he pulled her closer.

“Comron, stop it,” she giggled and glanced over her shoulder. “They can see us.”

He climbed out of the bed, wrapping a covering around his waist. He reached past Vaush and pulled the partition shut.

“Sure,” Vaush said dryly. “That won’t raise any suspicions.”

“Let them suspect. You’re my wife, it’s the most natural thing in the world that I should desire to be with you. Nacum’s a man who understands that. Why do you think he gave us the corner with the partition?” He led her to the cot.

“Com, you can’t be serious. We’re both not going to fit on there.”

“True.” Without hesitation, he removed the bedding and placed it on the floor. “Much better. No tell-tale creaking cot to give away our every move.”

She clamped her hands over her mouth and shook her head no.

“Please, love,” he said sweetly, offering his hand. When she reluctantly accepted it, he led her down to the floor next to him. Slowly, he brushed her hair back off her shoulders and drew tender kisses along her neck and shoulders. When all resistance had melted away, he looked deep into her hazel eyes.

“Who knows what dangers tomorrow brings? But as for tonight…I’d like to spend it making love to my beautiful wife.”

BOOK: Van Laven Chronicles
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