Valek urged Onyx into a gallop as the irrational part of him tried to outrun his memories. But the vision of his father’s leather tannery rose despite his efforts to quell it. His parents’ house was near the area being targeted by the thieves. Valek had left twenty-eight years ago. The sound of his father’s voice still remained clear despite the years. He’d never forget when his parents told him never to return. They hadn’t approved of his desire to seek revenge on the men who murdered Valek’s three brothers. And Valek had honored their request and stayed away.
Of course, he’d assigned agents to watch over them and protect them if needed. But he didn’t want a detailed report. All he wished to know was that they were alive and safe. Nothing else was relevant. Details would be a painful reminder of a time he’d rather forget. And soon he’d have his own family—or rather, another addition to his eclectic family, if he agreed with Janco’s assessment.
Valek reached the shelter before the sun fully set. The bloated half disk colored the sky with orange and red streaks. A couple horse stalls with a few bales of straw and buckets for water leaned against the structure. He removed Onyx’s saddle. It weighed a ton. With only four hours of sleep in the past three days, Valek felt every pound. And when he considered everything that had happened with Yelena, the Commander and Owen, he was rattled, exhausted and overwhelmed.
While Onyx ate, Valek groomed him and filled a water bucket. When he finished, he patted his horse. “If you smell or hear anything, can you please alert me?”
Onyx bobbed his head.
“Thanks.” He fed him a peppermint.
No one else was in the shelter. Valek doubted he’d have company, since he’d only seen a few security patrols on the road. The one-room building resembled all the other rest stops in Ixia. Valek tossed his pack onto a lower bunk far from the door. The distance would give him time to react if anyone entered with ill intentions.
After a meal of sliced cheese, nuts, meat jerky and bread—typical travel rations—Valek collapsed on the narrow bed. Already he wished the mission was over. He planned to stop the thieves as quickly as possible and return to the rendezvous location just as fast. If Yelena didn’t arrive in a reasonable time, he’d go to Sitia and find her.
Not even committing treason could stop him.
*
After eight days of hard riding with only brief stops to rest and feed Onyx, Valek arrived at the garrison near the northern coast of MD-1 by late afternoon. He needed to check in with the local patrols in order for them to leave him alone as he conducted his investigation. Besides, a hot meal, a bathtub and a real bed sounded too good to pass up.
The guards at the gate snapped to attention and just about wet themselves when Valek told them his name. High-ranking officers were fetched and a private arrived to take charge of Onyx. Despite the private’s assurance to take good care of his horse, Valek followed the young man to the stables to ensure Onyx received the proper attention.
Pausing at the entrance, Valek remembered the first time he’d arrived at this stable twenty-six years ago. He had reported to work minutes late, and the Stable Master had boxed his ear. It had been his first undercover operation, and he learned so much working as a stable boy. Back then, the King ruled Ixia, and all the officers had horses, so he’d not only been busy, but had a perfect spot to keep track of the comings and goings of the soldiers. Best of all, he’d assassinated the three men who had murdered his brothers, and their captain. No one had suspected the stable boy, and it was many years later before the garrison learned who had killed the men.
Satisfied Onyx would be taken care of, Valek allowed the garrison’s commander, a Colonel Ransley, to escort him to his private dining room for supper. Four older officers and two younger lieutenants joined them for the meal. Most of the King’s soldiers had switched their loyalties to the Commander during the takeover. It hadn’t been hard to convince them once they learned they’d earn higher wages and receive better benefits and respect, as long as they followed the Commander’s Code of Behavior.
From the occasional scowl directed his way, Valek figured a few of the older men had been stationed here when Valek had caused such panic over the mysterious deaths.
Once they were seated around an oval-shaped table, servers poured them glasses of wine and placed plates filled with steamed cod and salted seaweed. Colonel Ransley swallowed a large mouthful of wine before asking, “What brings you to this remote corner of Ixia, Adviser Valek?”
Conversation ceased as the others waited for Valek’s answer.
“I’ve been getting reports about a gang of thieves that strike when it storms,” he said.
Ransley scoffed, “It’s just a bunch of kids, stealing for kicks.”
“Yet you haven’t stopped them.” Valek studied their expressions.
“The local security forces can handle it,” an older major said. “Besides, they’ve only stolen petty stuff. When the fleet goes out, the incidents will stop.”
“Petty?” Valek asked. “I don’t think the weapons taken from the security office in Gandrel are insignificant.”
The major glanced at Ransley, who covered his surprise. Ransley cleared his throat. “Are you sure this information is accurate?”