Excerpt: Trading for War - Book 4 of The Yrden Chronicles

CHAPTER 1

In the years to come, should we meet again, we don’t know each other. Rose remembered the words that Jenna Yrden had said to her upon parting those fifteen years past. But she had never believed that the woman would rest until she, Rose, lay in her grave.

Now she had word through Ethan Fletcher, sometimes lover, and still mayor of Glencather on the planet Erin, that Jenna Yrden had returned – looking for her.

Rose tidied up her kitchen as she waited. Having known that Yrden would one day return, she had never slacked in her practice. Would the trader choose knives? Rose hoped so. She had always had a fine touch with a blade – much better than with a firearm.

A roar from the sky told of the approaching shuttle. She took off her apron and put on the pants that would allow her both motion and provide her with some small protection. She opened the drawer that she had hoped never to have to open again for this purpose, and pulled out her deadly knife. It slid into its supple sheath, and she affixed it to her belt. A light jacket would cover it from curious eyes.

The roar grew louder, and Rose walked through the back door into her yard. The sight that met her eyes surprised her. Not a shuttle after all, but a freighter’s scoutship hovered above the field, and slowly lowered.

To take such into the atmosphere rather than parking it in orbit and hiring a shuttle told Rose that Jenna had done away with patience – or looked to it for a quick get-away after doing the deed.

The scoutship could jump to hyperspace. No one on Erin – or in orbit above Erin – would catch Yrden once she fled the surface of the world.

The sound of engines reached a crescendo, and then died away, leaving a silence so deep it almost hurt the ears. Then the birds began chirping again and all seemed right with the world.

Rose knew better. Before the day ended, one of them – Jenna or herself – would lie dead. Perhaps both of them. She looked regretfully at the garden, at the plants that she might not tend to another day.

Smoke, now old and slightly arthritic, stropped her tail against Rose’s leg, and let out a small meow, to let the human know that a cat needed attention.

Absently, Rose picked up the bundle of fur, and began to stroke it. A rumble issued forth. Ethan would look after the cat in her sunset years.

Villagers streamed past the fence, heading for the landing field. They rarely saw any sort of aircraft, and certainly never a scoutship. Rose ignored waves for her to follow along. Jenna would come to find her; she didn’t need to go looking for death.

The cat brushed her face against Rose’s, and Rose scritched the little monster behind her ears, just the way she liked it. Her eyes, however remained on the path that led from the landing field.

There. No mistaking her. Older, like Rose herself, but no less deadly than the last time she had seen her. Jenna’s walk told Rose all she needed to know. The Yrden woman had also remained fit, supple, and in training.

Their eyes met, though fifty metres still separated them. Cold eyes, eyes that assessed Rose even as Rose’s eyes assessed her. The townspeople didn’t accompany Yrden. They would all stay at the field marvelling at the ship from outer space. None would remain to see the fight that would erupt mere moments from now.

Rose gently put down Smoke, who complained at such brutal treatment.

The back yard would make a reasonable arena.

Yrden looked it over as she approached, probably thinking the very same thing. The air smelled particularly fresh this morning, after the light rain of the night before. Too nice a day for death to come calling, yet death approached in human form.

Yrden opened the gate, and stepped unbidden into Rose’s yard. She approached slowly, carefully.

Yrden wore a jacket much like her own, covering whatever weapon the spacer had chosen for the day.

Bleakly, Rose looked at her, wondering why the killer from the Family Trading League couldn’t have just left her alone.

Yrden stopped three metres away. Her eyes raked Rose, head to toe. Her jaw looked tight, clenched. Outrage sang in her bones, in her stance.

Let her speak first, Rose thought. She had come so far, let her speak – if she wanted to. Or let her draw her weapon. Rose wouldn’t start it, but she would – if she could – end it. And then she would have to run again, for the Yrdens never forgot a slight.

Yrden licked at her lips. What? Not sure now? Wondering what Colleen might think of her two mothers fighting to the death? Would Colleen ever find out?

The sun shone down, heating them. The early breezes faded.

Smoke wandered over to the intruder, sniffed at her pants leg, and then meowed to be picked up. Jenna ignored the plea like she would ignore any plea that Rose made to just remain left alone.

Thus, Rose made no plea.

Jenna had come without her husband, Tamm. This time, he would not be able to constrain his wife. She would get exactly what she came for – or die trying.

Jenna slowly unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off. Yes, there on her hip rested the knife. Good.

Rose canted her head to the side in an invitation to speak, to issue the challenge. Jenna’s eyes narrowed. Her lips tightened. Rose’s hand trembled in reaction, ready to grab at the hilt of her own knife.

In the years to come, should we meet again, we don’t know each other.

They knew each other all too well. And Jenna had sought Rose out. Rose hadn’t gone to the stars to hunt the huntress. Not this time.

To Rose’s surprise, the Yrden woman bent down and picked up Smoke. She pet her under the chin for a moment, before looking again to her opponent.

“Rose,” Yrden’s well-remembered voice from the past, tore away any aspect of unreality from the day. Now came the challenge.

“Rose, I need your help. It’s Colleen.”