Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,49

a signal to others that the lady of the house is a trusted member.”

Considering the security necessary for any online technology, Moe considered this method to be a tad haphazard. “Seems like that signal could easily be duplicated by someone wanting to infiltrate the network.”

“True, but one must know that a network exists in order to infiltrate it,” Yirland said with a sage nod. “Our members would die rather than betray their sisters.”

“That’s great,” Klara said. “But you could’ve started a revolution on your own at any time. Why wait?”

“I thought you understood, Klara,” Velkma said gently. “We have been waiting for the right leader.” Her gaze shifted from Klara to Moe and back again. “You are that leader.”

Klara was okay with inspiring a rebellion, but actually leading one was a responsibility she would never have sought. She wasn’t sure she wanted it now, especially if leadership entailed ordering some of those women to their deaths.

“Me?” Klara exclaimed. “Why would you want me as your leader?”

“I believe we have already made our feelings on that subject quite clear,” Yirland said patiently. “We need someone with a history of defiance. Successful defiance. You are that person.”

Klara reminded herself that thus far, this revolution was purely hypothetical. “Okay. Let’s say I agree to lead the troops. Do you intend to lay siege to the palace or stage an all-out assault? Or is an internal coup more to your liking?”

“An assault might be the best strategy from a military standpoint,” Yirland replied. “However, the loss of life would be horrendous, and the same would be true of a prolonged siege. We have set our hopes on a simultaneous uprising of the townspeople and the palace staff. A few of our number have already taken jobs in the palace. Unfortunately, whether by choice or coercion, they have remained silent ever since.”

Klara shuddered. That silence could also mean they were dead.

Moe seemed more optimistic. “They may only be keeping quiet until they receive a sign from you that the revolution is imminent. Create a big enough threat to their security, and it won’t be too hard to convince others to switch sides. When that happens, Pelarus’s regime will collapse.”

“Pelarus has been hunting me for years,” Klara said slowly. “I could easily get inside the palace. All I’d have to do is give myself up.”

“And wind up in the dungeon or the arena? No way!” Temfilk cried.

“She would be more likely to wind up in Pelarus’s bed.” Moe spat out those words with thinly disguised repugnance. “I would be the one to end up in the dungeon or the arena.” With a sly glance at Klara, he added, “And you already know what a slippery fellow I can be.”

Although Klara knew exactly what he meant, it was her turn to object. “None of us is going to risk the dungeon or the arena. There must be a better way.”

“Your role is best played as a leader,” Yirland said wisely. “However, you have had to be cautious for too long, and that caution has become ingrained in your nature. At this stage, some degree of risk is required. Our network has maintained extreme secrecy for many years. Were any of us”—she gestured between herself and her three companions—“to seek employment in the palace, no one in charge would be suspicious.”

“Unless someone rats you out,” Temfilk said. “Your spies might turn on you, you know.”

“There has been no hint of duplicity,” Yirland insisted. “I believe them to be biding their time.” She said this with more hope than conviction.

“All of this getting jobs stuff sounds like it would take forever,” Nexbit said. “Seems like we should move faster.”

“A poorly planned rebellion has little chance of success,” Velkma cautioned. “Since we first formed our alliance, we have been patient, waiting only for the spark to ignite the flames of revolution. As I have said before, Klara, you are that spark. After seeing you openly walking the streets, I believe the inferno has already begun.” She smiled. “Pelarus will soon find himself in a very dangerous predicament. I would not wish to be in his shoes at this moment.”

“Neither would I,” Temfilk declared. “We’re gonna crush that bastard to a pulp!”

Klara wouldn’t have wanted to be in Pelarus’s shoes, either. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure she even wanted to be in her own.

This could get really ugly.

Hours of sitting around Velkma’s table discussing a plan that—hopefully—wouldn’t result in hundreds of fatalities had exhausted Klara more than a thousand sleepless