Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,45

for clearing that up, Tem. Really appreciate it.”

“I believe your greatest wish is to avenge the deaths of your mother and brothers,” Velkma said. “There are those of us who are willing to help you.”

An ancient Haedusian woman against Pelarus’s henchmen?

Not much of a chance there.

Even that horde of women waving posters couldn’t hope to defeat such insurmountable odds. Klara had contented herself with harassing her enemy. She’d never truly believed she could actually overthrow him or she would’ve made the attempt long ago. “Are you willing to die?” she demanded. “Because that’s probably what will happen. I refuse to risk any more lives.”

“We have lived in fear and misery long enough,” Velkma declared with a defiant thrust of her chin. “The day that Pelarus is defeated will be a good day to die.”

“We’ve risked lives to survive before,” Temfilk pointed out. “What about all those guys you sold as gladiators? Most of them are probably dead by now.”

Klara narrowed her eyes as her hands balled into fists. “That’s different. There wasn’t a one of them who didn’t deserve what they got, and you know it. Hell, Pelarus should have been paying us for helping get the criminals off the street.”

Moe took a rather menacing step closer. “Hold on a second… You only captured and sold criminals?”

“That’s right,” she replied with a stiff nod. “I would never send an innocent person to the arena.”

Moe’s eyes widened. “You were going to send me to the arena. What made you think I was a criminal?”

She gaped at him for a long moment before a reply finally surfaced. “You were in a fight. A fight you didn’t need to—” She was digging herself in deeper with each passing moment. I should shut up right now. “Look, I don’t know why I captured you.” She threw up her hands in a gesture of futility. “It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

Temfilk chuckled. “She likes you, Moe. She had the hots for you from the moment she laid eyes on your pretty pointed ears.”

While this was a perfectly logical explanation for her impulsive behavior, it still went against the grain. “I did not! I—”

Nexbit patted her arm in what he undoubtedly believed was a soothing manner. “No one thinks any less of you for liking Moe. It’s only natural that you would be attracted to him.” His stomach let out a growl. “Can we please leave it at that and get something to eat? I’m starving!”

She’d once seen Nexbit try to eat the moldy siding off a derelict building, saying that even the lowest forms of plant life had some nutritive value. He finally gave up when his termite form failed to put a dent in the petrified wood. Since then, Klara had done her best to keep him fed, although she doubted he’d ever truly been sated. For now, however, she was grateful for his intervention in what was rapidly escalating into an argument.

A lot had changed since she’d taken Moe captive. Feelings she’d never imagined had taken root and begun to flourish, and yet, she was still loath to admit to them. At some point, she might confess that Moe had been the one to capture her, but today was not that day.

“Aw, go on and kiss and make up,” Temfilk advised. “Or we’ll never get this revolution started.”

With a tolerant cackle and a beckoning wave of her withered hand, Velkma stepped back to allow them to enter her home. “Welcome to my cottage,” she said. “You are welcome to anything I possess if it will aid you in your endeavors.”

Klara paused at the threshold, gaping at the old woman. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, but she couldn’t help it. Gathering her wits and closing her mouth took a few moments. “There’s no need for that. We’ve been taking care of ourselves for years.”

“And you’ve done quite well,” Velkma said. “But times have changed. The stakes are much higher now. You require assistance, and we are willing to provide it.” She patted Klara’s arm as she gestured toward a table and chairs. “Come, child. Don’t be shy.”

By “we” she assumed Velkma was referring to the women who had been clamoring for her autograph. Hopefully, they had access to more weaponry than a bunch of posters.

A brief glance around the front room proved at least one of Velkma’s claims was true. The walls were papered with wanted posters, all of which had the same