Chapter Twenty-seven



"What do you mean, she's gone?" Niklaus glared at Brill through the tele- screen.

Brill shook his head. "I mean she's gone. She hit me with a stun gun, and he tied me up. They took the shuttle and left."

"Did you try to find them?"

"Yes, sir. I have people looking for them now."

"Double your search. I want her waiting for me when I get back."

"Yes, sir." Niklaus closed the transmission, then turned to his companion.

"I want you to send some men to Daccar."

Drade nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Do you have any idea where he'd go?"

"I doubt if he'll go home," Drade replied. "It's a possibility, of course. But I think he's smarter than that."

"Well, he can't just disappear."

"No. He has a few close friends. I'll send my men to check them out."

"We've got to find her," Niklaus said. "Brezor won't be put off much longer."

"I have an idea," Drade remarked, "though you may not like it."

"Let's hear it."

"If we can't locate Lady Ashlynne in time, we could find someone to take her place. Brezor has never seen her. The imposter can sign the necessary papers, and when she's served her purpose - " Drade shrugged. "She'll disappear."

Niklaus tapped his knuckles on the arm of his chair. It might work. At the moment, it was the best option they had. Time was running out. The Cenian ambassador was not a patient man. He had arranged for the Cenians, disguised as Hodorians, to attack Tierde in return for a partnership in the mine in order to assure that he would have a steady supply of the black baneite crystals. A partnership in the mine, and the ambassador's silence.

Niklaus needed both.

"Find me a suitable woman," Niklaus said.

"And then find my wife. When you do, bring her to Arkata. Make sure no one sees you."

With a nod, Drade left the room.

Niklaus went to the window and gazed out into the darkness of the Hodorian night.

Where was she? And what was he going to do with her when she was found? He shied away from the obvious answer but, in the end, he knew he would have no choice. Once she signed the mine over to him, he would have no further use for her. She would be just another loose end.

He blew out a sigh, wondering how things had gone so wrong so quickly.

It had all started out innocently enough - a casual conversation with the Cenian ambassador, who was eager to be part of the Confederation, eager to

fuel his ships at Tierde, rather than make the long journey to Ohiimahr.

Brezor had mentioned that if Hassrick would put in a good word with Marcus and the other members of the Mining Confederation, he would make it worth his while.

It had been a way out, and Hassrick had jumped at it. Unbeknownst to his father, he had made several bad investments, had borrowed credits and cash he could not afford to repay. Because of that, his family was on the brink of losing everything they had worked for, everything they owned. All Hassrick had to do was convince Marcus to admit Cenia to the Confederation.

Hassrick had agreed, confident of his ability to convince his future father-in- law to see things his way. Brezor had cleared Hassrick's debts and made a large deposit to Hassrick's private account. It had all seemed so easy, until Marcus refused to admit the Cenians to the Confederation.

In desperation, he had gone to Drade. It had been Drade who suggested the attack on Tierde. Invite Ashlynne to Arkata. Attack the mine. Marry the girl, and the mine would be his. The Cenian ambassador could have access to Tierde and the baneite crystals and all would be well. Hassrick had been appalled by the idea, but, in the end, he had agreed. But the attack hadn't gone as planned, either. Due to an error in timing, the attack had taken place a week early. He had thought all was lost, and then, as if by miracle, Ashlynne had showed up. But even that had gone wrong. He had never been eager to marry her, but on meeting her, he had been smitten by her beauty, by her apparent innocence, only to discover that she was soiled goods, no better than a Hodorian streetwalker. Worse, she had stubbornly refused to give him the mine.

Nothing had gone as planned.

Only now, when it was too late, did he begin to wonder if perhaps Drade had had an agenda of his own.