The Captive

Falkon paced the floor of his hut, his mood bleak. Six and a half weeks had passed since they'd arrived in Arkata. He had spent the days working in the barn, mucking stalls, grooming the horses, cleaning tack. When he wasn't in the barn, he was sent to work in the fields with the other slaves.



Keeping the grounds looking the way the Hassricks wanted required constant care. It was work that could have been done by androids, but androids were more expensive than slaves. Falkon didn't think the cost had anything to do with the reason Hassrick kept slaves. The man could afford a hundred androids, a thousand. It was the feeling of power, of control, that Hassrick enjoyed, the sense of ownership, of being better than those around him.



He ran his hand over the collar around his neck. Of all the slaves on the Hassrick estate, he was the only one forced to wear the thick collar and shackles.



Of course, the Hassrick slaves were well taken care of. They might not live in luxury, but the huts were kept clean, the food was plentiful if unimaginative. They were allowed to bath regularly. It was far better than working in the mines, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Bars were bars and prison was prison.



He had spoken to the other slaves, questioning them about the estate.



They had assured him there was no way out save through the front gate, which could only be opened from inside the house, or with a key code. Not only were the walls too slick and too high to be scaled, but they were electrified. The prisoners all had horror stories of slaves who had been killed trying to go over the wall, or who had been mauled and killed by the dogs that prowled the outer perimeter, or who had been shot by the guards while trying to escape.



He listened and nodded, but he hadn't given up, not yet.



Ashlynne came to see him whenever she could sneak away from the house. She had told him that plans for the wedding were moving forward.



Her dress had arrived, Zahara's secretary was busily writing out invitations, the cook was planning the menu. She had told him that the house servants were working day and night, readying rooms for guests who would be arriving early or staying late. Her future mother-in-law had decided she hated the furnishings in the main salon and the room was being completely redecorated. She hadn't found the code for the keypad, and didn't dare ask about it, for fear of arousing suspicion.



Going to the door, he watched the sun come up. Another day of enforced labor, of doing another man's bidding.



Ashlynne came down to the barn just before midday.



"I wish to go riding, Number Four," she said. "Go saddle my horse."



"Yes, my lady."



A short time later, they were riding toward the far end of the estate. As soon as they were out of sight, Ashlynne reined her horse to a stop. Falkon



rode up beside her. Leaning forward, he kissed her.



"I was hoping you'd come today," he said.



"I had a feeling you needed to get away for a little while."



"You got that right. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep from laying into Bryson."



"Falkon, you mustn't!"



"Dammit, Ashlynne, I'm going slowly insane."



"I know." She stroked his cheek. "I know. Please, just be patient."



"I'm trying." He glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, I want to get as far away from the house as possible."



They rode for almost an hour. Falkon glanced at Ashlynne. She seemed distracted, and he wondered what was bothering her. It wasn't like her to be so quiet for so long.



He reined his horse to a halt in a small glen.



Dismounting, he tethered both horses to a tree, then lifted Ashlynne from the saddle. "What's wrong?" he asked. She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. "Nothing."



"Ashlynne, don't lie to me."



"Kiss me, Falkon." She wrapped her arms around him and drew his head down. "Kiss me, kiss me."



She was hiding something from him, and he wanted to know what it was, but somehow, with her mouth urgent on his and her hands moving over him, it didn't seem to matter.



"Falkon, oh, Falkon." She clung to him, murmuring his name over and over again, and he surrendered to her touch, letting her do what she would, not resisting when she pulled him down to the ground. She kissed him again, and then dissolved into tears. "Ashlynne, what's wrong?"



"I..." She took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." Of all the things he had expected her to say, that was the furthest from his mind. Pregnant! She was looking up at him, waiting for him, to say something, anything. Pregnant... He thought of Maiya. He hadn't been there when their daughter was born.



He'd been off fighting a war on Calaas Ten. By the time he'd returned home, his daughter had been almost two months old. He hadn't been there when she died, either, he thought bitterly. He had been off fighting another war.



He lifted his hand to the collar at his throat.



"Falkon?"



He ran his knuckles along her cheek. Where would he be when this child was born? "Are you sure?"



She pulled away from him and sat up. "I'm sure. You don't want it, do you?"



The pain in her voice was like a knife slicing into his heart. "Ashlynne..."



He drew her back into his arms. "It's not that. It's just..." He shook his head.



"Just what? What are we going to do?"



"Beats the hell out of me." He lifted her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.



"I guess it isn't very good timing, is it?" she asked.



"Not very." He grinned at her. "But I'll tell you one thing. You're not marrying anybody else."



She laughed, and then grew sober once again. "I'll tell Niklaus tonight



that I've changed my mind, that I've decided to go back to Tierde."



"And you think he's gonna let you go, just like that?"



"Why not? Surely he won't want to marry me if I tell him I don't love him."



"I think you're overlooking something."



"What?"



"The mine."



"What about it?"



"I don't know, but I've got a feeling..." He shook his head. He couldn't put it into words, but deep in his gut he had a feeling that Hassrick had been involved in the attack on the mine. But why? "I'll tell him tonight."



Ashlynne stared at Niklaus. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter?"



"People rarely marry for love these days, my dear. You know that. It was your fathers wish that we wed, and we shall be married, as planned."



"But I don't want to marry you. I never did."



"But you will."



"No."



"You're acting like a child, Ashlynne. We will be married, as planned. End of discussion." Pivoting on his heel, he walked toward the door.



"I'm pregnant." The words were out before she could call them back.



He stopped in mid-stride and turned, very slowly, to face her. "What did you say?"



"I'm pregnant."



"You're lying."



Ashlynne shook her head. "No. It's true."



"Who's the father?" he asked, and in the same breath, answered his own question. "Number Four. It's him, isn't it?" he demanded with a sneer.



"That's why you were so worried about him."



She didn't deny it, didn't care what Niklaus thought of her. He would have to let her go now. "You will marry me, Ashlynne, as planned." She stared at him in disbelief.



"You can't be serious."



"But I am."



"What will you tell your parents about the baby?"



"I shall say it's mine." His smile was cold. "You're very beautiful, after all.



No one will be surprised to learn that we consummated the marriage before the vows were said."



"I won't be a party to such a despicable lie."



"The choice is yours, of course. You may leave, if you wish."



It was too easy. She stood there, waiting, her stomach in knots.



"It might interest you to know that there are several people attempting to discover the whereabouts of your Number Four. The Romarians are searching for him. One of their commanders, Drade, I believe his name is, seems very anxious to find him." Niklaus drew the controller from his pocket and ran his thumb over the activation panel. "It seems Commander Gasman also wants him. Dead or alive."



She looked at Niklaus, and felt suddenly sick. "You wouldn't."



"It's up to you, my dear."



"Why are you doing this?"



"You needn't worry your pretty little head about that. Shall I tell my parents the wedding is off?"



She stared at the controller nestled in his hand, the memory of the last time Niklaus had activated it vivid in her mind. "No."



Niklaus smiled at her as he slid the controller into the pocket of his trousers. It was a decidedly triumphant smile.



"Now, I think it's time you went up to bed, my dear. Mother is planning a party for tomorrow night. You'll want to look your best."



The party was nothing short of a nightmare. Ashlynne stood beside Niklaus, a fake smile on her face as she greeted their guests, but all she could think of was Falkon. She had gone to the barn that afternoon, but he hadn't been there. She had gone to his hut, her stomach churning with fear when she saw that it was empty. She had questioned Bryson, but he claimed he didn't know Falkon's whereabouts. The giant, Moldaur, also claimed ignorance. At last, in desperation, she had gone to Niklaus, who had assured her that Falkon was in no danger, so long as she did as she was told. She'd had no choice but to believe him.



She sat across from Niklaus at dinner, smiling and making polite conversation with the people seated on either side of her, and all the while she was heartsick. Where was Falkon? There was dancing after dinner. Niklaus claimed the first dance, his father the second. Knowing Falkon's fate depended on her, Ashlynne played her part well. She laughed and smiled and pretended to be the happiest woman in the galaxy, and all the while her stomach was churning and her heart was sick with worry.



When Niklaus claimed her for another dance, she pleaded a headache and asked to go outside. As soon as they were alone, she turned on him. "Where is he? I won't go on with this charade for another minute until I know he's all right."



Niklaus made a tsking sound. "You really care for him, don't you? How unfortunate. What would your father think, I wonder, if he knew?"



"I want to see Falkon. Now."



"Ah, so he has a name, does he?"



"Now, Niklaus."



'Very well." He went to speak to his mother, then motioned for Ashlynne to follow him.



Heart pounding, she followed Niklaus down three flights of narrow, winding stairs. The air grew colder as they descended. At each landing, lights came on automatically, illuminating their way.



She was shivering when Niklaus paused before a stout wooden door. He punched the code into the keypad and the door swung open. A light came on inside the room as they crossed the threshold.



Ashlynne glanced around, her apprehension growing. The floor was made of stone, the walls were made of rock, cold and gray and damp. "What is this place?"



"It was a prison, in days long past."



"A prison?"



"Yes. My great great grandfather built the house on top of it. This way, my dear."



He led her down a narrow corridor and made a sharp right turn.



Ashlynne sucked in a deep breath. A large room opened off the corridor.



Small, iron-barred cells lined both sides of the room. All were empty save one.



"Falkon." She breathed his name as he rose from the floor, blinking against the light.



"You see," Niklaus said. "He is unharmed, for the moment."



"What do you mean, for the moment?" she asked, though she knew the answer.



"I mean his continued good health depends entirely on you." Niklaus withdrew the controller from his pocket and activated it with a flick of his thumb, Ashlynne cried out as Falkon dropped to the cold stone floor, his body convulsing violently. And when the tremors had almost ceased, Niklaus hit the controller again.



"Stop it!" She whirled around to face Niklaus. "Stop it! I'll do anything you want! Anything, I swear it. Only please stop."



Niklaus nodded, his expression smug. "Yes, I thought you would see things my way."



Ashlynne ran toward the cell. "Falkon. Falkon." Reaching through the bars, she clutched his shoulder. She could feel the tremors coursing through him. She gasped as a sharp pain exploded in her hand and sizzled up her arm. With an effort, Falkon rolled away from her, breaking her grip on his shoulder.



Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, the pain in her own hand forgotten as she watched him writhing on the ground. How did he endure it? Her hand and arm still tingled from where she had touched him.



She couldn't imagine how painful it must be for him.



A low moan escaped his lips as the controller's effects ended. White-faced and trembling, he grabbed hold of the bars and pulled himself to his feet.



Ashlynne stood up, her eyes filled with sympathy. And love. "I'm sorry,"



she whispered. "So sorry."



"Not... your fault." He took a deep breath.



"Are you all right?"



She nodded.



Niklaus came up behind her. "It's time to go."



"No!"



"We have guests, my dear, remember?"



"Please let me stay. Just a few more minutes."



"No."



She turned to face him. "Please, Niklaus. Give us a few minutes alone."



He was going to refuse. She saw it in his eyes. "I'll beg if I have to."



Dropping to her knees, she clasped his hand in both of hers. "Please?"



He jerked his hand from hers, his expression one of disgust. "Very well.



Five minutes should be time enough to say goodbye. I'll wait by the door."



"Thank you."



Niklaus didn't reply as he turned and walked away.



"Dammit, Ashlynne, don't you ever go down on your knees to that bastard again."



"It was worth it." She reached for him through the bars, her arms wrapping around his waist. "I told him I didn't want to marry him. I even told him about the baby, but he said it doesn't matter, we're getting married as planned."



"And if you refuse?"



She looked up at him, the answer there in her eyes.



"Yeah," he muttered. "That's what I thought."



"I can't let him kill you."



"He will anyway. You must know that."



"No!"



With a sigh, he lowered his head and kissed her. His lips moved over hers. Sweet, so sweet.



She looked up at him when he drew away, her eyes searching his.



"Falkon..."



"Do what he wants, Ashlynne. Don't defy him. It will only cause you pain and unhappiness."



"What are you saying?"



"I want you to forget about me when you walk out that door. You have the baby to think of now. Nothing else matters."



"You can't mean that!"



"I've brought you nothing but trouble, princess. You'll be better off without me."



"That's not true!"



He placed his hand over her belly. "Take care of yourself. And the little one. Don't give Hassrick any reason to hurt either of you."



He backed away from her, and she reached for him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Falkon!"



"Ready, my dear?"



She froze at the sound of Niklaus's voice behind her. Heart aching, she looked at Falkon. "I love you." She mouthed the words, blinking back her tears as Niklaus took her by the arm and led her away.



Falkon stared after Ashlynne, knowing he would never see her again.



Hassrick had informed him that the two of them would be returning to Tierde immediately after the wedding. Hassrick would take over the running of the mine. Falkon's fate would be decided by Drade.



He laughed softly. His fate had been decided long ago.