The Margrave of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 2) Read online

  The Margrave

  of Montora

  Book 2 of the Chronicles of Montora

  Ward Wagher

  Second Edition

  © 2011,2014 Paris Mountain Press

  Taylors, SC

  www.wardwagher.com

  Cover by Deborah Tillman

  ISBN:1494848643

  ISBN-13:978-1494848644

  Any similarity between persons dead or living, and the characters in this book is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such.

  DEDICATION

  To those who, through no desire of their own, are saddled with the tough decisions which impact dozens around them.

  Solo Deo Gloria.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty Eight

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to the readers who have made the Montora series my most popular. Kudos to Amazon and CreateSpace for making it easy and cost-effective to publish. Thanks to Deborah Tillman for her cover design. And thanks to Debbie for putting up with my endless writing.

  PROLOGUE

  Kelly Hawkins stared through the viewport as the pirate cruiser slid alongside the Starliner Cresswell, and tightened her arms around her daughter Sadie. Her nervousness heightened her senses, and she could almost smell the fear pervading the passengers gathered in the lounge. She felt like lights were brighter, the ambiance sharper, and the normal background sound of the ship's enviro systems rumbled in her ears, along with the thudding of her heart.

  It had seemed such a wonderful idea, before, to take this trip; to get away from Earth and from Cal. His well-meaning kindness had become more and more oppressive over the past five years. His constant solicitude for her and their child had become an abrasion upon her spirit.

  The trip out to Danica, in the Garnet system, was just what she needed: a chance to breathe the air without Cal's suffocating presence. It was a chance to soak up the sun of a resort world, which just happened to be about as far away from Earth and Cal as she could buy a ticket for. The two month voyage with stops at the major human inhabited worlds was interesting and liberating.

  And now as she looked at the shuttles moving from the pirate ship to the liner, she wondered about the wisdom of her decisions.

  “Mummy, is Santa coming to see us?” Sadie asked.

  “What do you mean, Precious?” she said as she looked down at her suddenly remembered child. The five year old's hair was so blonde it was almost white.

  “That space ship over there, the writing on it says, Santa's Workshop. It's not even Christmas yet, and Santa is coming to see us.”

  Kelly looked closer at the other vessel and took note of the name painted on its bow. It simply added to the multiple incongruities of the situation.

  One of the ship's officer stepped into the lounge. “Try to remain calm, ladies and gentlemen. Some people will be coming aboard to examine our passports and, unfortunately, relieve us of our valuables. The best thing to do is to relax and not appear threatening to them. They will be gone in a couple of hours.”

  “Why can we not shoot them out of space?” a lady cried out.

  “Unfortunately, they have the guns. We don't. As I said, just try to relax. The line will indemnify your costs. The safety of our passengers is our utmost concern.”

  “Easy for him to say,” Someone else grumbled.

  “George, just relax,” came a lady's voice. “There's nothing we can do about it. The man is right.”

  “I want to go back to our room, Mummy,” Sadie said.

  “Hush, dear,” Kelly said. “Try to remain quiet. We will have to stay here for a while. Then we can go back to our room.” If they don't figure out who my husband is, she thought to herself.

  After another ten minutes of waiting, the door opened and four pirates swept into the room. They didn't look like pirates. They were nattily dressed in coal-black uniforms with silver highlights. Two wore high-peaked officers hats and the other two had berets. All were carrying side arms.

  One of the officers spoke. “Here is the way we are going to do this: you will line up along the outside walls of the compartment. As the chiefs come to you, you will each drop any jewelry, wallets, comm devices and all other valuables into the bag. You will present your passport for inspection. We want to make this a painless as possible for you. In return you will cooperate fully.”

  At his last words, the glint in his eye hardened and Kelly shivered. In spite of the professional appearance and polite words, these were not nice people.

  “Mummy, when is Santa Claus coming in?” Sadie said.

  One of the officers looked over at the child and smiled. “We might just have a little present for the child.”

  Kelly's stomach turned at the officer's oily smile. What seemed like a pleasant face was now lupine. She was now seriously frightened – not for her, but for Sadie. Seeing the look on the officer's face made her suddenly believe the stories she had heard about pirates and small children. She clutched Sadie closer to her. “Now, hush, child,” she said quietly.

  The pirates worked their way around the room with the efficiency of long practice. The subdued passengers pulled rings from their hands and dropped them in the bag, along with earrings, comm units, and necklaces. Each passport was visually examined, then the pirate scanned the code page with a hand-held device. Kelly's heart beat faster as they got closer to her and Sadie.

  While she and Cal strove to keep a low profile, it was hard avoiding the notoriety that came with being married to Calvin Hawkins, the CEO of Transtellar Minerals. The amount of wealth concentrated in the Hawkins family made them a target for the avaricious. Kidnappings were not unknown, even on Earth. Out here...

  Kelly dropped her rings and wallet into the bag as the pirate snatched her passport from her hand. He looked at it and then held it in front of the scanner. He pursed his lips as he read the display. “Lieutenant?” he called.

  The predatory looking officer walked over to where Kelly stood. Her legs were now quivering as he looked at the displ
ay.

  “Well, well, well, well, well. His smile grew broader. Looks like you just paid for the trip, Chief.”

  The other pirate nodded quickly and sharply. “Thought so, L.T.”

  The officer pulled out his hand-comm and keyed it. “Commander, we have a possible package.” He nodded to the chief. “Transmit the data please.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir.” The chief pushed a button on the scanner and it emitted a musical tone as it transmitted it collected data.

  “Stand by,” came a voice of the comm.

  The seconds stretched out as Kelly thought her heart would burst. Finally the voice came over the comm again. “Good job, Lieutenant. Someone will be along to collect the package.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Carry on, Chief,” he said to the pirate standing next to him.

  “Aye, aye, Sir.” The chief moved to the next passenger. “Passport, please.”

  Kelly had just begun to hope that the exchange did not involve her when two more black-uniformed thugs entered the room. The Lieutenant pointed to Kelly and Sadie. “Those two.”

  They walked over and grasped Kelly and Sadie by the arms. “You will come with us, Miss.”

  “Wh... where are we going?”

  The lieutenant laughed. “Why, you're going to see Santa Claus.”

  chapter one

  "Pull!" said the husky blond man on the top of the castle wall.

  With a whoosh the glistening red object flew out of the courtyard and over the top of the wall. It was briefly visible against the bright blue of the sky, and then disappeared from sight.

  The man on the wall turned to follow the flight of the object and watched it drop into the village below the castle. He raised his comm unit to his lips.

  “Five yards to the left.”

  The big raven-haired man in the courtyard grinned and gave a thumbs-up; turned and loaded another red water balloon into the miniature trebuchet. He then lifted the weighted arm up and hooked the basket around the trigger.

  “Ready,” he spoke into his comm.

  The man on top of the wall watched carefully. “Now.”

  With the catch on the basket yanked, the basket containing the water balloon whipped through a circle and the balloon arced out of the courtyard. The spotter gazed down into the village as the balloon burst nearly at the feet of the man walking across the central square. The man in the square stopped quickly and carefully looked around the village square. He scratched his head and continued walking.

  The spotter spoke into his comm unit again. “Ten more yards to the left, Franklin.”

  Another projectile was loaded and the trebuchet aimed. “Ready.”

  “Pull!”

  Once again a balloon was flung away from the castle. The spotter followed its progress through the pale blue skies over Montora Village. He suddenly dropped to his knees behind the crenellated parapet and burst into raucous laughter.

  "Score!" He continued laughing. "Beaned him right on the head!"

  "Franklin, just what do you think you're doing?" Daphne Locke stood with her hands on her hips glaring up at the tall rugged man.

  "Alex and I are trying out the trebuchet we just made. Works well too."

  "Yes, and what is Alex doing?" Alexander Nesmith, the captain of the guard, lay on his stomach on the wall walk. He continued giggling and the sound carried into the courtyard.

  Franklin Nyman, the Margrave of Montora, grinned at Daphne. "Alex is calling the shots."

  Daphne looked at Nyman and then looked at the guard captain upon the wall. Then she advanced upon Nyman. "You are dropping water balloons into the village? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?"

  "Take it easy Daff. Nobody can see where they are coming from."

  "Yes, but everyone in the keep knows who is doing it," she swung her head to indicate the windows behind her. Nyman turned to look. Guards or servants watched from approximately half the windows in the keep. "It'll be all over the village about five minutes after everyone goes home tonight. I can't believe you are being so stupid!"

  "It's no big deal."

  "No big deal? How do you expect people in the Margraviate to take you seriously?" She called up to the man on the wall. "Alex, get down here! If you want to have some fun, Franklin, take that thing down to the village and get the people there to help you play with it. You make them mad enough they'll start sending rocks over the wall, and then we'll all be in trouble!"

  “Give me a break, Daphne. We’re only shooting at Harmon.”

  “Harmon Eckert? Is that supposed to make me feel any better? He’s the most capable man in the village. You must be nuts!”

  Franklin was standing next to the trebuchet when Alex arrived. While Alex was not a small man, Franklin towered over him. "Have somebody put this in the stable, Alex. Our fun is over for today."

  "It had better be over for good!" Daphne said. "I am amazed you have no more brains than that, Franklin.” She turned to Nesmith. “And you ought to know better too.”

  “It’s a useful training device for the guard, Ms. Locke,” Nesmith said. “It teaches spatial reckoning, among other things.”

  “And I thought you were too smart to try pulling something like that with me, Alex. I can understand this big lout getting into trouble, but I was counting on you to keep him out of it.”

  “Hey, Daphne,” Franklin said. “You work for me, not the other way around.”

  “And if it weren’t for the memory of your Mother, I would have quit long ago.”

  Nyman’s mouth snapped shut.

  “Better,” she said. “Gerry is waiting to go over the books with you. Now come on in to the keep."

  # # #

  Gerard Blakely stood as Franklin entered the office, followed by Daphne. Blakely was a balding, middle-aged man. He was someone who could easily be mistaken for a store clerk or a bookkeeper, which he was. He was not tall, and looked small compared to Franklin. Daphne was a sturdy blonde woman of medium height. She was dressed in civilian clothes, but her military bearing showed through. Franklin was tall enough that he ducked as he walked through doorways, although he was in no real danger of banging his head.

  “What have we got today, Gerry?” Franklin said. He walked across the room and sat down in the leather chair behind the computerized desktop.

  “Settling into a routine, I think, Sir.” The little man bobbed his head. “Bookings have slipped a bit since we finished the Spring in Montora promotion. To be expected, I guess.’

  Franklin leaned forward and used his finger to drag the report across the virtual desktop. He squinted at it, and then stretched with his fingers to expand the size of the report.

  “Getting old, Franklin?” Daphne said with a smirk.

  “Ha! I’ve always had trouble with close work. I guess it’s the tradeoff against my superb distance vision.”

  “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

  He snorted. “To the contrary, Daff. Just a characteristic of your far-seeing leader.”

  “Yep,” she snorted in turn. “Clearly sees the consequences of bombing the populace with water balloons.”

  “Water balloons, Ms. Locke?” Blakely said.

  “You got it, Gerry. Our brave Margrave and resourceful Guard Captain were using their new toy to loft water balloons from the courtyard down into the village.”

  “Oh my,” Blakely turned away slightly.

  “I see that smile, Gerry,” Daphne said. “Am I the only one with sense enough to worry about things around here?”

  “Maybe that should tell you something, Daphne,” Franklin said.

  “Have you thought about what might happen if you get Harmon mad at you? He has a history, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Before they left with Dad, Smith & Jones told me Harmon mainly wants to keep his head down. Nothing to worry about, my dear.”

  “I am not your dear, Franklin.”

  “Sorry. Just a figure of speech.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “
Back to the subject at hand,” Franklin said. “I guess we should start planning a Fall in Montora campaign if we’re going to get the revenues back up. I looked at some of my mother’s notes and she had roughed in some ideas. Who do we have around here who has any ideas on marketing?”

  Daphne shrugged. “Marple is the only one I can think of.”

  Franklin leaned back in his chair. “Okay, maybe I’ll go talk to him. You two are better at the books than I, but it seems we are still cash-flow positive.”

  “Yes, Margrave,” Blakely said. “We are covering our costs at least. Not replenishing the capital fund, though.”

  “Let’s see. We’ve got about seven mil in reserve, right?”

  “Yes, Sir. Our costs are currently around five hundred thousand a year. I expect that to rise a bit when Modest Marple brings the new wing of the hotel on line.”

  “I assume we have some more expenditures ahead of us for that?” Franklin said.

  “Yes, Sir. Ms. Locke has been tracking the specific costs there, but I think we’ll drop another hundred or hundred-fifty thousand Centaurans in the project before we’re complete.”

  “I took a look at the business plan Marple put together,” Franklin said. “It looked reasonable to me, however Dad did not have a chance to vet the final version before he left. Are you both comfortable with it?”

  “No, it scares me to death,” Blakely said, “but placing that much money at risk has always frightened me. The numbers themselves look reasonable.”

  “You know what they say, Gerry,” Franklin smiled. “No guts, no glory.”

  Blakely burst forth with one of his trademark, high-pitched giggles. “Easy for you to say, Margrave. For me to risk an equivalent percentage of my capital, would involve spending about two-thousand Centaurans on my house. And I would still worry about it.”

  “That’s why I’m happy to have you working for us, Gerry. Dad told me one time he always liked to have someone whispering concerns in his ear during the business deals.”

  “Sort of like the Roman general,” Daphne said. “You know, the one who would say, Remember, you are mortal.”