D. A. Houdek

Deb Houdek Rule

Web designer - Science Fiction author - Civil War historian - Genealogy researcher

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Of All the Western Stars

by Deb Houdek Rule

Chapter 27

Ashur took a circuitous route back to the towering Palace, avoiding the public transportation, walking through the baking midday heat along rarely traveled sidestreets and alleys. The ship, with its untested doomsday weapon, was settled in the garden of his suburban villa. Aboard he’d put a few personal items, his old A.I. unit Baby, and some clothes.

Uneasily, Ashur glanced behind him. No one was following, not physically, at least. Who could say what sort of surveillance might be on him — on the whole city — from orbit. Ashur jumped at a small sound, then forced himself to relax. He was picking up his mother’s mood, he knew, and the mood at the spaceport where they’d been watching as dozens of enemy ships fell into orbit above them. They were all authorized, but…

Before he’d lifted his small ship for the hop over the mountains to his villa, a seventh sense had told Ashur to disable the ship’s transponder. As an afterthought he’d pulled his own I.D., a featureless disk, off the fob holding it to his holo crystal and tossed the disk into cargo being loaded in an outbound freighter. If anyone was tracking him by his I.D.’s code, they’d think he’d left the planet, headed… where was it headed… ah, yes. The freighter was headed to Earth, hopefully to pick up some real coffee.

All he had left in his possession was the crystal. Mother had given it to him on the last anniversary of her ascension to the Imperial throne. As he walked, Ashur pulled out the holo crystal and triggered its stream of images. He smiled at the views moving through its small surface. There’d been many good times, there would be more. Their world was not about to end, he told himself firmly. The Capellans were sincere in their quest for peace. All would be well.

Why couldn’t he make himself believe that?

He rounded a corner and the gleaming tower of the Palace came into sight. The blue-gold structure shone in the harsh, unfiltered sunlight, and its surface shimmered slightly, showing that the shields protecting the building were active. In the square below was were the official ceremonies would be taking place. He was late for them, he knew, but Mother had made it clear that his presence was not required.

As he watched, he saw an oddly configured shuttle — Capellan in its profile — drop from a swarm of Mother’s own patrol shuttles to land in the square.

All appeared well. Nothing was wrong, Ashur told himself, his pace unconsciously quickening.

Then, in an instant, the world dissolved into chaos. A blinding flash reflected from the Palace’s shining wall. All around Ashur a subtle, but horrifying thing happened. Power traffic came to a halt, the omnipresent low hum of machinery and air systems and a thousand other things ceased, leaving the city in eerie silence. He stared at the Palace, the shimmering of the shield was gone. It was on an independent system, he inwardly screamed. They must be inside. They’d been betrayed from within. Ashur broke into a run.

The power distribution grid was gone, he realized. Before the shockwave of that explosion could reach the city another flash lit the sky like a nova. A fiery cloud rose over the mountains from the direction of the spaceport. Beneath Ashur’s feet the city shuddered as the shockwave rolled through the planet’s crust.

The dull whump of explosions continued to shake the city as Ashur, drenched in sweat, ran through the chaos and panic that filled Penrose City.

After far too long, he dived into a secret entrance to the Palace. He ran through the dim passages until he came to an exit into the public corridors. Stopping abruptly, he flattened against a wall as a harsh, foreign-sounding voice reverberated from around a corner ahead of him.

"We have all of the family on our command ship, on their way to Capella. With them as hostages…" the voice gave an evil chuckle, "We’ll soon be the ones calling ourselves ‘Emperor.’ It gave me great pleasure to bash that arrogant expression off that female’s face."

Ashur’s face darkened with fury as horror churned his stomach. Mother!

A quieter, but somehow deadlier, voice said, "I hope you didn’t kill her. She’s needed alive… for a while anyhow. The son…"

Barton!

"…And father may not survive. They fought harder than expected. Not the soft, dainty, helpless creatures I expected they’d be."

"What about the other one? The second son, Ashur?"

The second voice answered, "There are reports he left on a ship bound for Earth earlier today. We’re having a hard time verifying them… Our forces got a little enthusiastic and all that’s left of the spaceport, and all its records, is molten slag."

Ashur heard footsteps approaching them and he faded back away. Ducking into shadows and odd corners, Ashur worked his way further into the Palace. He’d been working out secret ways in and out since he was a child, including routes not on any maps, no one knew their way around as well as he did. Ashur knew where his duty lay, though he was avoiding thinking about it, but he couldn’t leave without making sure of just one thing.

He didn’t make it. There were too many guards, and they were in places Ashur had assumed were secret. They must have been betrayed from within, he accepted the knowledge emotionlessly. Finally he was forced to abandon his quest.

"I’m sorry, Aureala," he whispered before starting back toward his ship.

Ashur fell silent as he continued his distracted stroking of Lisette’s hair. It was dry now, a magnificent sheet of silky chestnut. Only a few red embers remained of the fire, burned low in the hours it had taken him to tell his story, explaining endlessly concepts alien to Lisette’s ears.

Lisette shifted, turning to look up at him. Her green eyes radiated both sympathy and puzzlement as they met his. "So you lost your family to these invaders. What did you do?"

"I took my ship, went to their home world and killed them," he said in a flat voice.

She shook her head. "One man? Alone? How?"

"The weapon on my ship made their sun go nova. It burned them up, burned up their entire world and everything and everyone on it… including my mother, father and brother."

"I don’t understand," Lisette confessed quietly. "Nova?"

Ashur set down the silver comb and moved in front of her. He knelt by the fire, picked up the bellows and pumped them, sending a burst of air against the fire’s red coals. The rush of air made them flare up brighter and hotter.

"Like that," he said, setting the bellows down. "I made their sun flare up brighter and hotter until it burned them all. The science of it, and the mathematics, are beyond even me."

"Was it quick?" she asked softly.

Ashur laughed bitterly. "No, and that’s the worst of it. A natural nova would happen in an instant. Poof! And they’re gone. This was slow, the reaction building up in their sun over hours as their world got hotter and hotter. It would have taken them a long time to die."

"You were a soldier, doing your duty in a war."

Ashur looked up at her gentle face, her round lips pursed in concern and compassion. Gods, she was wondrous.

He looked away. "That’s the worst of it… I found out after it was too late that our high command has survived and managed to repel the Capellans, that the attack on our world had been by a radical splinter group, not by the main Capellan government at all. The Capellan government had already apologized and was negotiating with mother, freed them and was treating them as guests on their world. I wouldn’t have needed to do it at all. Billions annihilated… for a mistake. My mistake."

A featherlight touch made him look up again. Lisette leaned closer, settling her hand on his shoulder, her fingers tightening into his flesh. She must think him evil. Likely she was wanting to get far away from him right now. He’d not stop her, if that was what she wanted to do, but he’d not sit still and accept sixteenth century ‘justice’. He didn’t know where he could go, how he’d manage to live, but he did feel better, lighter and freer, now that he’d confessed himself to Lisette.

Reluctantly he looked back up into her eyes. He was surprised to see unshed tears sparkling in them.

"I grieve with you, milord," she whispered and lowered her lips to his.

Lisette’s heart pounded despite her outward appearance of calm. Truly, she could not say she understood — or believed — all that Ashur had told her, but she felt his pain, his unhappiness and wanted to soothe it.

She lied to herself. She wanted him. She wanted the touch of his hands against her bare flesh, the feel of his fingers twining through her hair, his lips hot upon hers.

Squelching the insistent voice in her mind insisting that this was wrong, a sin, Lisette found herself leaning down to kiss Ashur. It lasted only a moment, the barest touch of her lips upon his before she broke away, standing quickly and crossing the room away from the fire and Ashur.

She stood near the window, looking down upon the moonlit garden, while she tried to steady her breathing. It was a dangerous game she played and she knew it. Often Aunt Agnes, and even her mother, had warned against teasing a man with false offers of her favors. "Men won’t stop once they’ve begun. You best make sure before you even give them the opportunity," Agnes had said. Lisette wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, had visions of men becoming some sort of wild, uncontrolled beast if she allowed her appearance or touch to arouse them.

But the hot throbbing between her legs demanded that she cast aside her fears, her beliefs, her chastity. She wanted it. She wanted to know about the things her husband…

Her husband. She was married. But it was in name only, she argued with herself. The marriage had not been consummated, it wasn’t a real marriage. Why shouldn’t she have from Ashur that which Geraint denied her? Aunt Agnes had made it plain enough that it was expected of her.

No. No. She was pledged to Geraint, to her husband, and to him alone until death. She’d not break her vow. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t… But if there was a way she could have both? A way she could have Ashur, yet not break her vow of fealty to Geraint…?

Ashur’s hot breath touched her cheek.

He stood silently behind her. Lisette could feel the heat from his body inches from hers. Lisette took a shuddering breath. He didn’t touch her. Why didn’t he touch her?

The dying embers popped softly and a bit of charred wood shifted. Outside the wind was a whisper through the treetops. A black cat stalked through the bushes, pouncing on something Lisette couldn’t see. She could almost count her heartbeats as time stretched. Ashur’s presence behind her taunted her with his nearness.

Lisette turned swiftly, flinging her arms around Ashur. Her mouth hungrily sought his. Their lips met. His lips parted, his tongue reaching out to tease her lips. With a moan her lips parted to welcome his seeking tongue.

Her hands clutched the strength of his shoulders through the fine linen of his shirt. How good he felt, how strong. He moved his hands up and down the length of her back, caressing her back, her shoulders, the round curves of her bottom. Lisette pressed herself more tightly against him, feeling herself on fire, yearning for the quenching, satisfying release she knew instinctively he could provide.

Ashur slipped one hand between them, into the opening of the satin robe. He cupped her breast, her nipple hardening beneath his fondling touch. Lisette let her own hands boldly wander, exploring this body that had filled her thoughts and dreams.

Pulling back his mouth from hers, Ashur whispered, "I want you," in a husky voice.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Taking her by her shoulders, Ashur pushed her back, his eyes continuing to embrace her. With gentle roughness he jerked at the tie holding her robe closed. As he worked at the knot, she pulled his shirt free from his britches, letting her fingers touch his bare flesh beneath.

Lisette’s robe fell open and Ashur stood still staring at her in a way that made her feel sultry and sensuous. She felt more naked than ever before in her life before his lustful gaze.

With one finger Ashur reached to touch each of her breasts in turn, moving in a trailing line down her belly to the curling hair between her legs. Lisette gasped softly. He moved his finger between her legs, finding her hot wetness and sending a shudder of rapture through her body.

Seemingly of their own accord her hands moved around Ashur’s body to the front of his breaches, finding the hard swelling there, that mysterious man’s sign of longing.

Without another word Ashur swept her up in his arms and carried her back to the fire. Settling her carefully down on the back on the thick, silk rug he poised above her.

Yes, Lisette thought. This is it. They’d come this far, there was no stopping now, no turning away. His searing tongue touched her belly, licked up to her breasts. Lisette thought she might burst with longing for fruition. His hand reached between her legs, stroking, probing, teasing. She lifted her hips upward, instinctively seeking.

Ashur loosened the fastenings of his breaches with her searching fingers helping, seeking, exploring. She touched, first tentatively, then eagerly, the thick, warm, soft-covering-hardness of his yard. Her fingers encircled it, rubbing back and forth along its length.

Pulling, guiding, she drew him downward on top of her. His long hair tickled her cheek as he lowered himself, moving to lie on top of her. His lips sought hers again and this time her tongue delved without hesitation into his mouth.

His yard touched the wetness between her legs and Lisette whispered, "No, don’t."

Ashur froze.

Her hands, still fondling him, slowed their movements and stopped. She looked up at him, puzzled, unable to read his expression.

Ashur disengaged himself from her, moving first to his knees, then standing and turning away, readjusting his clothing, fastening his breaches, tucking in his shirt. A small whimper escaped Lisette. What was wrong? What had happened? Didn’t he want her? Didn’t he find her desirable?

Laying still, bared on the carpet before the fireplace, Lisette watched in stunned silence as Ashur added some more small logs to the fire, stirring up the coals with an iron poker. He then poured a cup of wine, drinking it down it a single gulp. He avoided looking at her.

"I’m sure you’ll find your Aunt’s room comfortable for tonight," he said distantly. "Have you further need for the servants tonight? Shall I send for them?"

Lisette swallowed hard and pulled the robe closed around herself. She sat up slowly, feeling as hurt as though she’d been beaten. "Uh, no. Thank you." She blinked back tears.

Turning to look at her, Ashur asked quietly, "Are you all right?"

A single tear slid down her cheek before Lisette could will them away. "What happened?" she asked in a quavery voice. "Why did you stop?"

It was Ashur’s turn to look puzzled. "Lisette," he said, "You said ‘no’."