Van Laven Chronicles: Throne of Novoxos
“Besides, I don’t believe for one second that his intentions have—”
His words were cut off when the proximity alarms sounded. Comron immediately engaged the defense system and the dark cabin lit up with holographic images of the star field and incoming ships. He recognized their markings.
“Forrel Raiders,” he said apathetically, “Nothing but a bunch of second-rate henchmen on Recaban’s payroll.”
“Well, they’re hailing us.” Vaush motioned at the com-panel.
“Too bad, I’m not in the mood for conversation.”
Vaush stared at the screen, her body tensed. From the images, she could see that the Forrel Raiders were closing in fast. It seemed to be Comron’s intention to outrun them. From the little she knew of the Raiders, they were the self-proclaimed law in the outlands. If Comron failed to acknowledge them, it would only rouse their suspicion.
Another sensor went off. “They’ve targeted us for fire.” Comron manipulated the computer controls, bringing up their shields. Suddenly, Vaush was thrust back into her seat as the ship lurched forward, flying at breakneck speed. “I’ll try to shake them.”
Nauseous and frazzled, she sat helplessly as he initiated evasive maneuvers, turning the ship at impossible angles, flipping it repeatedly to avoid missile fire. Despite his impressive piloting skills, the raiders kept up the pursuit, firing all the while. Somehow, in the midst of the maneuvers, he managed to squeeze off a few shots at them. Two of the ships were immediately hit, leaving the three who quickly raised their shields. They seemed to fall behind in a cautious move, while maintaining their pursuit.
“I’ve got to jam their communications before they can call for back-up,” Comron muttered, once again working the controls. “There.”
“They’re hailing us again,” Vaush announced.
“That’s fine as long as they can’t make long-range transmissions.”
Vaush noted a blue light flashing erratically. “What is that?”
Comron looked at it for a moment before discerning its meaning. “Damn it! They’re scanning us.” Instantly, Comron slung the ship around so they were now traveling in a head-on collision course with the three ships.
“What are you doing?” she asked with wide eyes.
“They’ve likely discovered who’s aboard. We can’t let them get away with that information.” He began firing missiles and soon made a direct hit on one, but the other two dispersed, making a beeline back to their stations. Again, Vaush was thrust back in her seat as Comron picked up speed for the pursuit. She watched him; his jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed on his target, and she knew that his killer instinct had taken over with the single-minded objective of destroying the ships.
In a dazzling display, they exchanged fire as they blazed after the Forrel fighters. Their ship rocked violently from the impact of a missile. Though the shields held, the ship sustained heavy damage. That only fueled his determination to destroy them. Unleashing another volley of missiles, he took out one more of the raiders.
A twisted grin touched his lips as he bore down on the final raider. This one flew with more skill than his comrades, making it difficult for Comron to lock onto his ship. Quickly closing in, Comron finally got a lock. But at that very moment, their ship shook violently, setting off red lights and sirens in the cabin.
“We’ve been hit!” Vaush declared as the computer began announcing the imminent danger.
Comron was like ice as he let loose a final volley of fire, hitting the raider dead on, blowing the ship into oblivion. Finally, he turned his attention to their plight and instantly began plotting a course to the nearest life-sustaining planet.
“We’ll land on Anchorii,” he shouted over the alarms. “It’s just ahead.”
Total engine failure in six minutes, announced the computer.
Vaush thought her heart would pound out of her chest. “Can we make it in time?”
“We’ll enter Anchorii’s atmosphere in two minutes,” he replied confidently. “That should give us enough time to land safely.”
“With only four minutes left?”
“The ship has gliding capability,” he informed her. “We’ll have the engines long enough to stabilize us in the lower stratosphere, enabling us to navigate safely.”
His assurance wasn’t enough and her expression said so. He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
He held her gaze and she felt his confidence infusing her with courage. It didn’t matter what happened next. They were together, sustained by a powerful connection that transcended everything else. Even if these were the last few moments of her life, she’d die content and very much loved.
“Now strap yourself in tight,” Comron ordered. “It’s going to get a little rough.”
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 are completely fried.” He took a deep, ragged breath, which turned into 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 kilometers away. But, in subfreezing temperatures, and a 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 a howling wind. From what he could observe, it was dusk and night would come soon. With the falling temperatures, i
t 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 sank thigh deep in 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 was 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 lar
ge 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 a 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.