Vendel Rising Omnibus

by L A Warren

  “Why you rotten little…” Larkin’s words trailed off in another spray of Vendel curses.

  Elise laughed. “Rabbit got Fox. Are you ready to be the Rabbit, Lark? You’re gonna have to get two points in each of the next rounds to have any chance of winning your bet. I bet Fox takes Rabbit by ring twenty in the next race. Care to wager?”

  He cursed and Elise accelerated back to the start of the course, laughing, and feeling more alive than she had in a very long time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gambit, Day 221

  High Tender Marcus led WOR-skill instruction with his droning voice and demands for perfection. Elise barely managed to achieve proficiency with the first two skills of the Rod, while the others seemed to breeze through the skills, working on the fifth skill. Not a single vlor’ lord was present during this WOR-skill training session, which was unusual. The High Tenders paced around the room as the ninety Fifth Rank WOR went through the drills.

  Her skin itched with the certainty the Vendel had some new surprise in store for the women.

  Each High Tender had five to ten WOR under his personal supervision and instruction. High Tender Marcus had only four, including Elise. The women had been separated into the High Tender’s personal groups to make it easier for the High Tenders to oversee the training.

  With the vlor’ lords present, the sound level in the room usually remained just below a quiet hush. The lords encouraged and soothed the women as they worked the forms, performed drills, or were introduced to the next skill. The High Tenders did not encourage conversation. They expected obedience and, in general, received it. As such, the room remained eerily silent without the encouraging voices of the vlor' lords.

  Every time High Tender Marcus passed her seat, Whimper smiled and struggled to please, whilst Shriek cowered and Malice cackled in the background. Elise found the voices distracting and struggled to push her sisters to the back of her mind. A fourth presence stared out of the darkness, but had yet to reveal herself to the others.

  Quiet permeated the room. That, in and of itself, wasn’t unusual. At times, s’vlor trained in the absence of their vlor’ lord, with their High Tender providing the required guidance. The uncommon aspect of today’s training session was that not a single vlor’ lord was present.

  High Tender Marcus came to stand over her shoulder as she worked the first skill of the Rod. “Your vectoring solution is wrong s’Lissa. Solidify your base and clean up these lines.”

  “Yes, High Tender Marcus.” Her reply came with instant obedience, something hammered in by Tender Training. Her lines were clean, damn him, but she and her sisters never disobeyed the Master Tender.

  A pitcher of water sat on the table. It was supposed to be ice. The first skill involved phase transformation and began with shifting water through its various forms: gas, liquid and solid. It was one of the last steps in the first skill of the Rod.

  She was doing a spectacular job of failing and couldn’t get the simplest phase change, liquid to solid, to occur. High Tender Marcus’s disapproval hung heavily in the air.

  Elise complied, with the encouragement of Shriek, and reformed her vectors and folded the construct. High Tender Marcus grunted as the first ice crystals formed.

  The lesson continued. Tension hung around them all, causing the women to shift and cough in their seats. The High Tenders continued instruction as normal until the bell sounded. Elise filed out of the room with her friends.

  Chandra’s luminous eyes beamed with excitement. I got the sixth skill!

  Congratulations, Alice tapped, using the code. I’m still stuck on the last step of the fifth. Can’t seem to wrap my mind around that one.

  Maybe Elise can help. Aomi flipped her straight, black hair over her shoulder.

  Me? I bombed the first skill, again. I have no consistency in any of this. Elise shrugged.

  Aomi tapped, Well, that’s just because they’re stupid. If they’d just let you do it your way…

  They exited the long hall and filed into the main lounge area where ninety vlor’ lords stood around the space, their expressions grim.

  The first thing Elise noticed was the dark tattoo dancing on Gregor’s face. He stood at the head of the gathered vlor’. The second thing she noticed were all the chairs and tables pushed to the sides of the room. The center of the lounge had been cleared. The women came to a sudden, confused halt and the light chatter ceased.

  High Tender Marcus spoke from behind the women. “Form yourself into rows according to High Tender group. You have less than thirty seconds to comply.”

  The women rushed to the center and arranged themselves as directed. Elise didn't move. The glower on Gregor’s face, the flash of steel in his eyes, and the fists formed at his side, gave her pause. Her sisters squirmed in her head and a dull roar sounded in her ears.

  “Elise!” Alice hissed, standing at the end of one of the rows.

  Elise brought her head around to the sound. They weren’t supposed to have those names. A fact immediately brought to Alice’s attention as High Tender Anders vlor’Alturis pressed his braklav to Alice's neck.

  Alice’s shriek echoed off the walls, but the High Tender’s words carried easily over her screams. “Those names are dead!”

  The blonde croaked out a weak, “Forgive me, High Tender Anders.” Alice’s High Tender yanked her off the floor and deposited Alice back on her feet.

  Malice hissed and propelled Elise toward the front row where three other women stood. She took position at the end of the line of her Tender Group. Her eyes locked onto Gregor’s. The fury darkening his face sent Whimper and Malice cowering into darkness. Shriek took a breath and stood at Elise’s elbow, waiting, anticipating.

  Preparing.

  In less than the allowed thirty seconds, the women lined up in ordered rows. Ninety vlor’ lords and fifteen High Tenders looked on with dispassion.

  One emperor fumed.

  Gregor stepped forward. The High Tenders arrayed themselves loosely behind their charges. The vlor’ lords came to attention.

  “Ladies…” Gregor flicked his attention to Elise and narrowed his eyes. “Certain rules have been in place since the very first day you arrived. Specific rules that shaped our intent. As you have learned, failure to obey has consequences.”

  He stepped to the first row of s’vlor, at the end opposite Elise. Gregor passed each s’vlor, pausing to loom as only he could do. After an agonizing period of time, he came to stand in front of Elise.

  She said nothing, but held his fierce gaze. Shriek stood up straight.

  “Is there anything…” His gaze flicked to the row behind and back to Elise, “anything you wish to tell your masters?”

  The women glanced around, exchanging bewildered looks. Fear laced their eyes, as did incomprehension.

  Gregor scowled and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Opés, is there anything you wish to tell me?”

  Lots of things flashed through her mind. None were good. What had they discovered? What did Gregor know? Her mind raced, trying to determine how she had slipped up. What critical mistake had she made? Did he know about her nightly forays? About Jeena? About the jump-jet training? Had he found out about her silent little army in the am-net? There were simply too many secrets held in her head.

  Elise stared back into eyes absent of compassion and said simply, “No, Gregor.”

  His lips twitched into one of his smirks. “Well, opés, that is unfortunate. And here, I thought we’d made such progress.” He shook his head. “It was unwise to make fools out of the vlor’ lords.” He stepped back to stand at the head of the mass of Vendel lords. “Master Tender, the s’vlor are yours.”

  Those words rang with frightening familiarity in her head.

  High Tender Marcus came to stand at the front of the s’vlor. “Ladies, is there not a single one of you willing to admit disobedience?”

  The women whimpered.

  A woman behind spoke out. “High Tender vlor’Vardhal, what ha
ve we done to displease you?” Her cries began a chorus of similar words.

  High Tender Marcus allowed the women to speak.

  Elise watched his eyes.

  In training sessions, this man’s eyes sparkled with warmth. He cared about all the s’vlor and worked to bring them along slowly, deliberately, without fear, in the discovery of the WOR-skill. In place of the liquid brown pools of warmth, Elise noticed the flat, dispassionate gaze she had come to know all too well in the little room at the end of the Confinement Deck.

  High Tender Marcus had moved fully into Tender Training mode and not a single woman here knew what was to come. His gaze passed over Elise and he gave a slow nod, confirming what was coming. Yet, she still had no clue what had brought on this mass Tender Training session. The women’s protestations died out and were replaced by ragged sobs and sniffles of fear.

  It was something they had all done, she suddenly realized. It had nothing to do with her secrets. That at least was still safe. However, there was one thing, something small, something secret, something the vlor’ lords had finally discovered.

  Elise tore her gaze from High Tender Marcus and looked directly at Gregor.

  She’d tapped out in the code, clear and strong. You discovered the code.

  It was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. The women went eerily silent and the men stiffened as one, confirming the truth of her words. Then she did something stupid.

  What took you so damned long?

  Gregor launched forward, coming at her in a blur. He slapped her with the force of granite. Her head whipped wildly and Elise spun with the force of his blow. She crumpled. It was fortunate Gregor grabbed her, or the impact with the ground might have hurt. Before Elise passed out, startled gasps of comprehension and the thuds of several s’vlor falling to the ground filled the room. At least they had the privilege of fainting.

  Gregor didn’t allow her to remain unconscious. The braklav brought her back to full, painful awareness. When she did, there was not a single s’vlor standing. The women had all been forced to their knees.

  “She’s back with us, sire. We may proceed.” The dispassionate voice of High Tender Marcus grated in her ears.

  Gregor spoke and Elise heard his words as if from a great distance. There was no way the women could endure Tender Training. It would destroy them. Many of these women liked their new masters. It had only been her hate which had given her the strength to endure.

  Shriek pulled at Elise’s elbow and guided her toward the dark. This is my job, she whispered. I will take the pain.

  Elise shrugged off her silent sister. No, I can’t let them destroy these women.

  What choice do you have, sister?

  I must try.

  Shriek let go and Elise remained.

  High Tender Marcus spoke to the kneeling women. “Communication was forbidden, and yet you devised this code. You flaunted this in front of the High Tenders, the WOR-guards, and your masters for cycle upon cycle. This mistake will cost you dearly, s’vlor.”

  He paced up and down the rows. “I want to know who was responsible for the code.”

  Silence echoed his words. Elise realized with incredible pride what that implied. This group of women, Earth women, slaves, fodder, property, had achieved solidarity. They had been beaten and yet, in this one small thing, they held together.

  And then it began. Voices rose from all around her.

  “It was me, High Tender vlor’Vardhal.”

  “No, me. I devised the code.”

  “No. It was me.”

  “No, forgive me, but I made the code.”

  “I did, and I taught it to us all.”

  The words repeated again and again.

  Elise’s face stung from the impact of Gregor’s hand. The women protected her, or tried to. All of them. These women knew the terror of Tender Training, had watched as Elise retreated day after day to the back of the Confinement Deck. They understood what had happened there.

  High Tender Marcus stood quietly, as the cries of admission percolated up from the mass of s’vlor. His face clouded over with fury.

  “Enough!” he roared. “You dare lie to me!”

  Elise controlled her breathing. They couldn’t take this for her.

  But can we take it for them? That voice belonged to the silent sister.

  Who are you? Elise searched the darkness of her mind, but the silent sister retreated to the shadows.

  “Each of you will receive five days of Tender Training. I trust you understand what that entails.”

  There was no response from the women.

  No. This can’t happen.

  Elise braved the reaction of the High Tender.

  “Gregor,” she said, in a cool detached voice full of strength. “They seek to protect me. I made the code. You know I did. We’ve had it since the very first day. With it, I kept our identities intact, our names, our heritage, and our anger simmering in the background. I’ve used it to fuel my hatred of you, the High Tender and all the rest. I’ve continued to use it, through and past, Tender Training. While pretending to be supplicant, I have flaunted this one victory in your face, without your knowledge. I have reveled in this small thing we had. I used it so that we might get to know one another and find strength. And I’ve used it as a weapon to try to beat you.”

  “No, Elise don’t!” several voices cried out in unison.

  “Silence!” The High Tenders spoke as one. The words died on the lips of the s’vlor.

  Gregor spoke softly. “I have underestimated you, opés. Those are damning words. You claim responsibility?”

  “Yes, Gregor.”

  High Tender Marcus interrupted, “My lord, what are you doing?”

  “Lord vlor’Vardhal ten days of Tender Training, obviously, was not enough for this s’vlor.”

  “It was not without effect. You can attest to that personally.” The High Tender’s defense of her came as a surprise, but it was short lived.

  “We have been fools,” Gregor said. “It’s time to teach this woman a real lesson. I’m not pleased, opés. We could have done this the easy way, but it seems you prefer to make things difficult. You have made a serious mistake.”

  Gregor put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. He looked down at her and his entire visage changed. “This is not your day. I sentence you to twenty days of double sessions with Lord vlor’Vardhal. Perhaps we will see how much fight is left in you after that.”

  “Yes, Gregor,” she said in resigned acceptance. Her entire body shook with the implication of the pronouncement. Double sessions for two cycles. It was too much. She was defeated, but she had to save the others from the agony of Tender Training. “It was my code, my plan. They don’t deserve Tender Training.”

  He rubbed a finger along the line of her jaw. She jerked away from his touch and watched as he pursed his lips.

  Gregor cupped her jaw in his muscular hand and wrenched her face back around to look at him. “Opés. You don’t understand Tenders at all. The punishment has been given. It will be dealt.”

  “Then, I will take it for them.” Elise shuddered and silenced her mind as it calculated the math. High Tender Marcus hissed and the room went silent. Elise watched the cold steel of Gregor’s eyes glitter as he considered.

  “Lord vlor’Vardhal, would this satisfy the High Tenders. Can this s’vlor take the Tender Training of all the women?”

  “The punishment has been spoken and must be dealt, but a single s’vlor can’t endure that much Tender Training. It will kill her.”

  “Sorry, opés.”

  Alice stood, “High Tender vlor’Vardhal, I will share in the burden.”

  Alice tapped in their very private code, known only to the two of them, and therefore still secret. We knew this day would come. I am here for you. We will endure. But we are not defeated. A secret kept by two is still a secret.

  Elise wavered on her feet. You have no idea how bad it will be.

  One by
one the s’vlor stood and repeated Alice’s words. Each woman accepted her portion of the Tender Training with one exception.

  Sarah screamed, “I knew nothing of any of this. My lord, I would have told you. You know I would.” Sarah broke ranks and ran to her lord, High Councilor Lord vlor’Altus. Sarah wept at his feet and he reached down to pet the top of her head.

  High Tender Marcus spoke. “My lords. Your charges will receive Tender Training to address this disobedience. Five days have been given by the High Tenders. If you agree, stand by your s’vlor now. If not, then remove your s’vlor to her rooms. She will receive a single Tender Training session but no more.”

  The lords moved toward the women. “Understand lords, the full five sessions will be dealt. If too many of you remove your s’vlor, the others will take up the slack.”

  Sobs echoed his pronouncement. Gregor, still holding Elise’s chin in his grip, did not move. The vlor’ lords came to their s’vlor. High Councilor Lord vlor’Altus pulled Sarah off to her rooms. She glanced at Elise in triumph and followed her master. None of the other lords pulled their charges away.

  Tears streamed down Elise’s face. “Give me their punishment. Please I beg of you. Gregor, please. They have no idea what’s in store.”

  The High Tender came to stand beside Gregor. “Are you satisfied, Emperor?”

  “No.” He frowned. “I need more if I am to control this one.”

  High Tender Marcus raised his eyebrows in interest. “What more do you want?”

  Gregor spoke so his voice carried across the room. “Five days is a lot to endure. As Emperor, I request a reduction to three sessions for the rest so they might return to WOR-skill training as quickly as possible. For this one, you will administer triple sessions. I need her crushed.”

  “Yes, Sire.” His voice boomed, “High Tenders, you have heard your emperor.”

  Gregor turned to the High Tender and said, “One more thing, Lord vlor’Vardhal?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “This one needs a greater degree of control. Do you understand?”