Fortune's Light - Michael Jan Friedman [84]
“Not as well as when we were trading with the Ferengi. But that was the whole point of the merger—to put Terrin in a better position to benefit from the Federation agreement.”
“Obviously the Ferengi made them a better offer.” He thought about it. “Terrin is the wealthier party in the merger, isn’t it? So its first official, Larrak, would be first official of the newly merged entity as well. With that kind of power, he could cut any number of deals with the other madraggi.”
“Enough to vote the Federation out and the Ferengi back in.”
“Not exactly what Criathis had in mind, eh?”
“Far from it.”
He had a thought. “And Terrin may have killed Teller as well. If he came here to bury the seal and screw up the merger, and noticed the Ferengi as we did …”
“They’d have killed him for it. Without a second thought,” said Lyneea. “Just as they’ll kill us if they find us here.” Her eyes narrowed. “But then, what was Conlon doing in the maze?”
“That’s probably just where they chose to dump him. They couldn’t have anticipated that Norayan would think to look for him there.” He pursued the thought to its logical conclusion. “It was just dumb luck that she found his body. And those settings on the device, for getting out of the maze—they must have been left over from his lovers’ trysts.”
As they spoke, another figure came into view on the other side of the window. He was taller than the average Impriman, and even slimmer. Nor had he changed much in five years.
“Larrak,” spat Lyneea. “And he’s greeting the Ferengi.”
“That cinches it,” said Riker. “We’ve got to alert Criathis.” He started to move away, but she grabbed his good arm.
“What about the seal?” she asked.
“Leave it here for now. What’s the difference? When Criathis finds out what Larrak has in mind, they won’t want to go through with the merger anyway. Then, when all the dust clears, you can recover it at your leisure.”
Lyneea frowned. “Fortune’s Light isn’t something that’s needed only for the merger. Nor is it merely a family heirloom. It’s the heart and soul of the madraga—the most precious thing we own.” Her frown deepened. “We can’t just let it lie in the ground, not when we’re so close to recovering it.”
He sighed, moved back toward the tree. “All right. Let’s just be quick about it.”
“That was my intention,” she told him.
She resumed digging. In the meantime, Riker watched Larrak and the Ferengi. Fortunately they were too engrossed in their conversation to take any notice of what was going on outside.
After a while, Larrak poured a liquid—probably a liqueur—into a couple of ornate goblets. The Ferengi said something, and they put their goblets together in a toast.
It made Riker’s stomach turn. To murder someone for the sake of profit …
“Ah,” said Lyneea. Thrusting her blade into the earth one last time, she put her weight on the handle and used it as a lever. A moment later, something rose from the earth with great reluctance. It was small, covered with some rough variety of hide.
“You were right,” he noted. “He didn’t bury it too deep.”
“A fact for which I am most grateful.” Laying aside her shovel, she began to unwrap the package. Suddenly she raised her head and looked around. “What’s that?”
He tried to follow her gaze. “What’s what?”
“That sound. Like … oh, no.”
Now he heard it, too, and recognized it immediately.
“Isakki,” he snapped.
A couple of seconds later he saw them. Four or five of them, deadly black streaks on the otherwise flawless fields of snow. A couple of Terrin’s retainers ran behind them, struggling to keep up. And they were all coming from the spot where he and Lyneea had climbed the wall.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he told her, pulling her up off the ground. “Now.”
She resisted just long enough to grab up the seal. Then she ran along behind him.
Riker didn’t know where he was headed. He just knew that he didn’t want to be caught in those powerful jaws. And the only place that seemed to offer shelter was the house.
“What are you doing?” asked Lyneea. “There may be more retainers