Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind by Unknown Read Free Book Online

dispatching his reeking foe, Drae paused long enough
before engaging his next opponent to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the
back of his arm. He assured himself his boarding party was handling their end
of the fight then with casual elegance met the frenzied attack of a new
attacker.
    Studying the clean, determined face of the man with whom he
was parrying, the Tiogar knew this one would be for the Feasting. He drew the
scent of the fellow deep into his lungs, smiled brutally and made quick work of
ending the young man’s life.
    By the time the vicious snarls began, the boarding party
from the Revenge had meted out the last measures of punishment to the
ones who had dared tried to overtake Captain Taegin Drae’s ship. Making sure no
life was left alive on the ship they had overrun, the boarding party
transported back to the Revenge, leaving their captain behind to finish
his business.
    Tarnes looked up as the men began appearing on the transport
pad. “Was it Graham’s men?” he asked.
    “Aye,” Ensign Villarreal reported. “Come to break him out.”
    “Fools,” Tarnes observed with a twist of his handsome mouth.
“They should have known better than to come after us.”
    “Won’t make that mistake again,” Villarreal said. He
grinned. “Ever.”
    Every man except the captain accounted for, Tarnes could
have gone back to his duty station, but he waited for the Tiogar to return. He
spoke quietly with the chief engineer until the buzz from the pad began,
signaling the captain’s return.
    No man on the engineering deck cared to view what might
materialize upon the pad. Their eyes were turned away, a hand to their noses to
help mask the smell that always accompanied the manifestation. Only Tarnes
stood facing the pad, his hands clasped behind his back in parade rest, his
chin up, jaw clenched and his eyes straight ahead. He snapped to attention when
dark amber eyes flicked casually over him.
    “All accounted for, Captain,” Tarnes reported. “No
casualties. A few cuts and bruises but nothing of consequence. I’ve given the
men a few days off to recuperate.”
    “At ease,” Taegin Drae growled as he moved off the pad. He
was tired and badly in need of the bath he knew Tarnes had waiting for him.
“The woman?”
    “Lady Marin is well, sir.” He fell into step beside his
superior.
    “I, too, will need a few days off, Tarnes. I’m getting too
old for this shit.”
    “I will see you are not disturbed, sir.”
    “I’m close enough to retirement to taste the Balikian rum,
Tarnes,” Drae stated, thinking of the highly potent amber liquid he had only in
the last few years been able to afford. “And I’m more than ready for it.”
    Tarnes mentally calculated the captain’s age. Since all
Fleet Command members began their service at age fifteen, he realized the
Tiogar had to be close to thirty-five. To Tarnes—at the ripe old age of
twenty-six—that was almost ancient. “Any other orders, sir?” he asked.
    “Keep a close watch while I’m down, Tarnes,” Drae ordered.
    “Anything in particular I should be looking for, sir?”
Tarnes asked, his face scrunched with concern.
    “Anything that looks like it means us harm,” the Tiogar
replied. They had reached the elevator and he waited for Tarnes to punch in the
number for the deck on which the captain had his quarters. “That’s the only
reason I’ll accept for you disturbing me.”
    “Aye, sir,” Tarnes replied. He made no move to enter the
elevator with his captain and was still standing there when the doors closed on
the blood-splattered face of the Tiogar.
    Ensign Villarreal let out a long breath. “I don’t think I’ll
ever get used to the smell of spilled blood on him,” he confessed.
    “You will. It took me awhile but I barely notice it
anymore,” Tarnes told him. “It’s what he calls the kill stench and it bothers
him a lot more than it does us, believe me. That’s why he insists on a long,
hot bath after one of these