Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) (10 page)

“I’m Anya…”

“Dubrovnyk, I know,” he
interrupted. “It’s my name, too.” His gaze returned to Joshua. “Why is she with
you?”

Anya didn’t appreciate being
discussed in the third person. “Joshua accepted a peace agreement with Onred.
My bride price was part of the deal. Onred paid it. I ran. Onred blew up
Astana.”

Reluctantly, it seemed, her uncle’s
gaze returned to her. “So this mess is your fault.” He snorted. “Not surprised.”

His words stung. Before she could
speak, Joshua said, “Onred never intended to keep the peace. If Anya hadn’t skyjumped
from that plane…”

“Skyjumped!” Her uncle’s black
eyes bored into her.

Enough of the games.

“We’re here to ask for asylum. And
for your help.”

Richert’s eyes went to Joshua. “Do
you allow her to speak for you? You’re Baron. Allow a woman enough rope, and
she’ll hang you with it.”

Anya clenched her fists, sick of
her uncle’s petty digs, but again Joshua spoke before she could, his voice low
and level. “I’m her protector first. Her baron, second.”

“Protector, eh?” Richert’s gaze
traveled from Joshua to Anya, and then back again. Imperceptibly, and without apparent
cause, his posture relaxed. “Is she as cold as her mother?” Again, that opaque
black gaze flicked to Anya. “You look just like her.”

It didn’t sound like a compliment,
but she said, “Thank you.”

Richert snorted again, and turned
his full attention to Joshua. “We’ll eat breakfast. Then I’ll decide if you
have terms worth considering.”

“My family may still be alive,”
Anya said. She wished she could erase the tremble of emotion from her voice. “Sources
say Onred kidnapped them.”

“You think that’s incentive for
me? To save my brother’s family? You’re a damn fool.” Richert rolled for a long
table adjacent to the bar, which was piled high with food. “Grab a plate.”

Anya’s arm still hurt, but she
decided to wait until after the talks to discuss medical care. An alliance came
first; her comfort and well-being, a distant second.

A young woman in a black uniform,
whom Richert called “Lisa,” appeared and deftly piled food on a plate for the
baron. She brought him a steaming hot drink as well. “Leave us,” he ordered. As
soon she settled the napkin on his lap, she quickly obeyed.

The eggs, bacon, and crisp,
buttered toast made Anya’s mouth water. After three days of dried rations, the
food smelled like heaven. When Richert stabbed into an egg, Anya crunched off a
salty corner of bacon and gave a soft sigh of ecstasy. Across the table, Joshua
offered a faint smile.

Richert seemed disinclined to
speak. He ate like a starving man at his last meal. Again, Anya wondered about
his wasted body. Although he had clearly lost a lot of weight, he ate like the
proverbial horse. She didn’t think he would respond positively to inquiries
about his health, however, so she remained silent.

The food rapidly disappeared.
Joshua went back for seconds, and brought Anya a cheese pastry; her favorite.
The thoughtful gesture reminded her of the Joshua she had known for so long,
her stalwart—if unyielding—friend and protector.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Richert dashed the napkin across
his mouth and slammed it onto the table. “Let’s have it. What do you want?”

“I want our territories to ally
against Onred,” Joshua evenly replied. “Together, we can defeat him. Afterward,
we’ll split his land and live in peace.”

Richert coughed out a hoarse
cackle. “Not good enough, son. Without me, you’ve got nothing. Give me
something I want.”

“You can take two-thirds of Onred’s
territory.”

“Not enough.”

Anya’s half-baked plan to try to
charm this ornery man had disappeared the moment she had met him. Curtly, she demanded,
“What is enough? All of Donetsk Territory? Our lives? The lives of my whole
family? Would that be enough to satisfy you?”

“Anya.”

Temper flushed Richert’s weathered
cheeks. “Let her speak. She’s a fool, just like her mother.”

“My mother is dead,” Anya
returned. “So is my father. You can’t punish them any longer. And look at you.
You’ve turned into a bitter old man. How long will you wage war against us? How
much death is enough to salve your injured pride?”

Richert’s fist hit the table. His
face glowed a bilious purple. “This is not about
pride
, stupid girl!”

“Then what is it about? Greed? Hatred?
Is that what’s eaten up your whole heart? And your body?”

Puffs of air pulsed his papery
cheeks. “No, you insolent girl. It’s about justice.”

“Justice? Thousands of men dying
is justice? Justice for what? My mother marrying the man she loved?”

“She loved
me,
damn it!
Jason
stole
her from me!”

Was the man insane? Delusional?
Maybe, after all of these years, he had managed to rewrite history in his mind.
More quietly, she said, “No. My mother loved my father. It’s the only reason
she’d leave Aksu—her home.”

“No.” A hoarse sound huffed from
his throat. “She left because she was weak. She couldn’t face the scandal.”

The young woman appeared again,
this time with an oxygen mask. Over the top of it, Richert glared at Anya.

Anya stared back. “What scandal?”

“Forget it.” Her uncle closed his
eyes and breathed deeply. Moments later, he ripped off the mask and ordered
Lisa to leave. She frowned at Anya before exiting.

Richert turned to Joshua, ignoring
Anya now. “You’re forgetting Cadmus. He’s got ties to western Mongolia. If Altai is split up, Mongolia would be on our backs faster than black flies in a plague.”

Joshua spoke, his voice calm. “What
terms do you want, Baron? You’ll have to fight Onred sooner or later. If he defeats
our territory, he’ll come after yours next. Onred wants our greenhouses now,
but he’ll want your petroleum next. With our military power, he could defeat
you. Choose. Fight with us now, or alone later.”

The Baron of Tarim remained silent
for a long time, staring into space. At last, he said harshly, “We’ll unite.
But under my terms.”

Joshua glanced at Anya. The subtle
stiffness in his straight shoulders indicated tension. “I’m listening.”

“I get all of Onred’s territory.
No negotiations on that point.”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “Agreed. In
addition, you agree to a permanent peace with us. Your military never enters
our territory again.”

“Done.” The old man’s lips curved
up in a satisfied smile. “But you’re wrong about one thing, Van Heisman. Onred
doesn’t want your greenhouses.”

Something flickered in Joshua’s
gaze. He knew what Richert was talking about.

Anya frowned. “What else could he
want? We have nothing but open land.”

“He probably wants that, too.”
Richert chuckled, and Anya wondered what the wily old man was thinking. Her
uncle, however, did not elaborate, and instead told Joshua, “Your forces are
scattered. Unite them. Contact me when it’s done, and we’ll plan an attack
strategy.”

“We’ll plan the attack now,”
Joshua countered. “It’ll be a two pronged assault. The first phase will be
tonight, and Donetski air corps from Omsk, Zyra, Irgiz will strike fast and
hard.”

“A focused attack, eh? A thermal?”

“No. Assassination.”

Richert raised a thick eyebrow. “How
many levels?”

“Top three, to keep then
scrambling. Onred, for obvious reasons. And both Yegor and Belar are dangerous,
sadistic strategists. We’ve got a better chance to win this war if they’re
dead.”

Richert nodded. “I like it. What
about the extraction?”

“The same team will extract.
Tomorrow night, our combined forces will attack.”

It surprised Anya that Richert had
brought up the matter of her family’s extraction. At the same time, Joshua’s
cold-blooded discussion of assassination disturbed her.

Richert said, “I’ll give you
twenty-four hours. Then my forces attack, even if your team is still at risk.”

“Agreed.”

“Starting now,” the baron added.

“Starting at dusk.”

The old man’s gaze bored into
Joshua’s. A silent battle of wills ensued. The old man’s fire, drive, and even
a bit of contempt battled Joshua’s unwavering stare.

With an abrupt nod, Richert pushed
back from the table. “Tomorrow at dusk.”

“Thank you, Baron.” Joshua offered
his hand. “We will defeat Onred.”

Richert shook it, briefly. His
black eyes glittered, and glanced from Joshua to Anya. “I have no doubt.” The
wheelchair swirled left.

“Before you go,” Joshua said, “Anya
requires medical care.”

The old territory baron rolled
away. “I’ll send Lisa.”

When he had gone, Anya laid down
her fork. “That went surprisingly well.”

One brow flicked up. “So far. I
still need to meet with him to hammer out the details of tomorrow night’s
attack.”

“Do you trust him?”

“No.” Bluntly. “But we both want
Onred dead. In the meantime, we’ll be alert to a surprise attack from Richert.”

“When would Richert strike us?”

“When it’s clear Onred is defeated.”

“Will you really order Onred’s
assassination?”

“Yes.” Joshua must have seen
something in her expression that concerned him, for he said more gently, “Why?”

“I hate Onred, of course. But
planning his death…it seems like murder.”

“He deserves to die.”

“I know. It’s just
so…cold-blooded. Like when you went behind that rock and killed that pilot. You
didn’t have to kill him, Joshua.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Why did you?”
This newly realized, merciless side of him scared her. It made her wonder
again, as when he’d sold her to Onred, how well she knew him.

Joshua’s warm hand curled around
her fist. It made her feel secure, although her heart beat faster at his touch.
“He was moving. In a minute he’d have reached for his weapon or contacted
Onred. With Onred alerted, we’d never have escaped to Tarim. I had no choice.”
He paused. Then, with apparent reluctance, he continued, “Even if he hadn’t
been coming around, I couldn’t let him live. As a soldier, I learned one
important lesson. The only safe enemy is a dead one.”

“But ...”

His hand tightened. “Listen to me,”
he said quietly. “The first day I joined the military I was twelve. I lied
about my age so they’d accept me. My community had thrown me out—” he grimaced,
“—because of a crime…never mind. I knew I’d die soon. I figured it would be
better to die as a soldier with warm clothes on my back and food in my stomach.”

He drew a breath, and his thoughts
seemed to turn inward. “The soldiers didn’t ask many questions. They gave me a
knife, clothes off a dead soldier, and ordered me to carry supplies. That first
day was terrible. I’d never seen so much blood and death. I couldn’t imagine
any day being worse than that one.” He paused again.

“At dusk, we battled Richert’s men
over the ridge. They retreated, leaving a few bloody comrades behind.  Soldiers
in my unit cheered. I remember one taking out a flask and gulping from it. His
face was so exultant. He was so pumped with victory that he didn’t see the dead
man move at his feet.

“I shouted, but a laser flashed
first. The soldier’s mouth opened in surprise. His flask fell, splashing out
alcohol.

“Our commander shot the enemy.
Afterward, he shoved a laser into my hand and ordered me to shoot every dead
soldier I saw, right in the brain.” His eyes closed. “For the next two months,
I followed behind the battles. I shot every enemy soldier, dead or alive.” His
eyes opened, and they appeared black. “I don’t like to kill, Anya. But in war,
men kill, or they die. Onred must die, or he will continue to murder innocents.
Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered. His
rationale was brutal and merciless…but necessary. She didn’t like it, but could
accept it.

“Good.” To her shock, he tugged
her fist to his firm lips and kissed the back of her fingers. Her breath caught
with surprised pleasure. She didn’t move, or speak, for fear of losing the
sensation of his warm breath on her skin.

“Come.” Lisa’s sharp voice
interrupted. “I’ll bring you to your rooms.”

Joshua released her. He rose to
his feet and in wordless silence they followed the short, rigid woman to the
electric train.

For a second, Anya thought she
spied Richert’s wheelchair parked in a dark corner, near a potted tree, but the
electric train whisked them forward before she could double-check.

CHAPTER NINE

Anya gazed
with longing at the wide bed in
the spacious, opulent room. A pale rose, silky comforter covered the mammoth
bed, and the pillows looked deliciously soft. If only she could lie down for a
few minutes. During the past three days, she had barely slept.