The healer frowned for a moment and Huldar sensed Lind’s reply. Her voice seemed muffled, as if the call had woken her from sleep.
“I’ll be in my tent checking the assignment listings,” Huldar said.
“Suit yourself.” The healer shrugged.
Enclosed by familiar leather panels, Huldar slumped onto his bed. It was ridiculous, the way he avoided her, but Lind’s presence made him uncomfortable. He had told no one of their conversation by the sky-step, but it was hard to pretend it hadn’t happened.
He took out a list and mused over the sites they needed to visit today. They would probably need extra containers as well as a selection of charm-sealed bags and boxes, and maybe some small jars, left in storage back on their more permanent campsite on the Eastern Continent. He would have to send someone to get them. Lind was the perfect choice.
“Breakfast!” Tam called. “Wait till you wrap your teeth around these little beauties!”
Huldar steeled himself to look and feel casual while eating breakfast with Lind and Andel both present at the same time, then gave out the assignments for the day.
_______
Lind strolled into the now-empty campsite on the Eastern Continent and shrugged her jacket off. At least the weather was warm there. She scanned for Duvät Gok’s presence. He was supposed to be minding their things, keeping the local fauna and flora from colonizing, but it seemed she had the place all to herself.
The marquee door was open. Her hand trailed against the leather as she entered, its texture smooth and soft against her fingertips. Inside was dark and cool. Empty cushions and rugs lay around a cold hearth. A slight film of dust already covered everything. She kneeled on Huldar’s customary cushion and imagined him as storyteller in full cry, and her tears began to flow. She had held him in her secret heart for such a long time. Why had she held back? Why had she said nothing until competition arrived?
Because archangels do not marry angels, she answered herself. And it was true, most of the time. But Casco was a mixed-marriage child, and El would not have blessed his parents if the relationship was wrong, would He? There could be no child without a marriage, and no child except that El had blessed the union, so therefore, mixed marriages could be blessed.
She thumped the cushion. “It’s not fair!”
Andel was fragile and beautiful with dark hair and pale skin, and a naivety about her even Lind herself found fetching. She hadn’t set out to win Huldar’s heart, and probably didn’t even know that she had.
“And she saved my life!” Lind sobbed aloud. “It’s not fair.”
The cool cushions buffered her collapse and she cried until there were no more tears to come. Afterward, she lay with her knees drawn into her arms and her mind a welcome blank. Slowly it came to her that they were only halfway through their assignment. Somehow, she would have to put this behind her, bury her feelings, and keep going. When they returned to Giahn, she would apply for transfer to another team and leave them to their happiness.
Her eyes closed. She felt herself drifting off to sleep but had no will to prevent it. The team would have to wait a little longer for their spare bags and jars.
She awoke to the sensation of being watched. Her mind reached out and found the Overlord standing not far away. She turned and sat up. His eyes followed her contours in a way she would have welcomed from Huldar.
“Aren’t you married?” she snapped.
Duvät Gok nodded once, but his lips shrugged as if the admission meant nothing.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You are beautiful.”
He backed away a step, but his haze oozed attraction. He was still Duvät Gok, their despised Tiamäti Overlord, but his attention was like a warm fire on her jaded heart, and his yellow, archangel eyes wanted her, just as she wished Huldar’s would. When he smiled, she smiled back, and when he tipped his head for her to follow, she did.
He held open his tent and she passed beneath his arm. Every sense felt alive in a way it hadn’t for too many years. His eyes glittered down into hers. His finger passed across her lips, leaving a tingling trail. He was not beautiful, but he was powerful, and he wanted her. His hand felt clammy and soft in hers, but when their hazes touched she felt his excitement and, in that moment, nothing else mattered.
She fell onto the bed and he tumbled down on top of her. Beneath his shirt his chest was a little fleshy but still masculine and strong. He squeezed her breasts. She noticed the blue polish on his fingernails was chipped in several places. Moist breath panted against her neck as he pushed her legs apart and fumbled with the fastenings on his trousers. She wondered why he didn’t use his mind.
Won’t your wife know? she whispered.
I am Duvät Gok, he growled. I take what I want!
With one hand, she held her underwear aside. He gasped as he plunged himself inside her. Her ankles locked over his heaving back. Slow down, she said, but he grasped the frame of his bed and grunted with each thrust, absorbed completely in his own pleasure. As the tempo increased, he pressed his lips against hers and when she did not respond, he forced her kiss with his mind. Her mouth was filled with his tongue. His rutting vocalizations breathed into her lungs, owning them.
Trapped beneath his weight, she felt excited by his dominance. She ground her loins against him. He made a strange squeaking sound, and with a long groan, rolled off her, spent.
After a few moments, she sighed and wondered what to do. Then he started to snore. With a grimace she turned to look. There was a lumpy bag beneath his pillow. Herbs to help him sleep, perhaps? If so, he hardly needed them at the moment.
Her fingers crept forward. His breath was warm against the back of her hand. Her fingertips stroked the bag. The bulges were hard and round.
Duvät rolled over. She snatched her hand back. But then he snuggled deeper into the pillow and a little more of the bag was exposed. After a long moment she reached out again. The top was tied with a purple string. It had a silken gleam – probably charmed. “But right now, he probably wouldn’t notice if the tent fell down,” she murmured, and after a short hesitation, she touched it anyway.
The tie vibrated quietly between her fingers but she was no Shamkarun to be able to sift the notes free. She had an image of Huldar, his Shamkar glowing with a soft white light as he sang magic into a piece of driftwood then gave it to her, charmed to keep the zilla-flies away, but that was on another planet, at another time.
She gave the cord an angry tug and was startled when the knot came loose. Yes, it was charmed, but Duvät had been careless and not sung the seal. Carefully, she pulled it again and the loops fell away. The puckered top eased and she noticed something strange.
Is that colored light … coming from inside the bag? How could that be?
When she held her hand in front of the opening, a rainbow shape shone onto her palm. She probed inside and found a smooth surface, cool … like crystal. With barely a pause, she pushed back the lip to see more.
Rainbow light flared against her face. Everywhere it fell, on her arms, her chest, on the leather tent above, a rippling aurora transformed that object into a thing of transcendent beauty. Duvät Gok, Huldar’s rejection, all was forgotten as she reached into the bag and withdrew a shining orb.
She eased her legs over the edge of the bed. The crystal nestled into the palm of her hand. It was clear like water yet alive with color. She could not stop looking at it. Whenever she moved, its colors would momentarily scatter then realign into a brilliant, cohesive aurora. She rolled it to and fro, lost in wonder. What was it, and why did their Overlord have a bag of the things lying under his pillow?
A cold shiver went up her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked sharply and she turned to meet the Overlord’s stare. Outrage filled his yellow gaze. She closed her hands over the light of the gem.
“Give it back,” he snarled.
He snatched it from her and quickly returned it to the bag. Without releasing her gaze
, he pulled the drawstring tight. His lips muttered the charm that should have held it safe from prying.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You were asleep. I didn’t know. I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you want.”
His eyes burned uncertainly. The red stain on his haze intensified. Slowly, she stood up from the bedside and backed toward the exit.
“I don’t know what they are and I don’t want to know,” she said. “I can screen. I won’t tell.” But with two strides he was beside her and gripped her arm with surprising force. She had never realized how tall the Overlord was, never thought of him as dangerous, until now. He threw her to the ground and stood astride her. She gasped with pain as his mind invaded hers.
YOU WILL TELL NO ONE! His voice reverberated, heavy with malice. She felt a snap as something altered inside her head. She tried to complain but the words would not form. It was as if her voice had frozen. Tears left cold trails. She lay motionless, face averted, barely breathing.
“Look at me!” he shouted.
Slowly, she turned her head. The penis that dangled beneath his shirt was becoming erect.
YOU ARE MINE! he yelled. MINE!
He kicked her legs apart and kneeled between them. She stared into his angry eyes, afraid now to look away.
He put his mouth close to her ear. “You will do my bidding, obey my every word because I am an archangel and you are pathetic, and if ever you breathe a word of this,” he rasped, “or share even the faintest glimmer of a thought, I shall make you my slave!” His mind projected the image of a silvery neck-chain. His lips found hers in a lingering kiss. “Every thought you have, every whim – your entire self will be mine to know.” His finger ran from the tip of her nose, across her lips and pushed them apart. “Have you seen it?” His finger stroked her tongue. Have you seen what the chains can do?
She shook her head. The finger almost made her gag. She did not move in such circles, but she had heard about the God-Emperor’s household, about the slave-chains and silencers – the terror of every poverty-stricken angel.
Duvät removed his finger and made a wet line across her throat.
“If you do that,” she whispered, “everyone will know about the …” she tried to make herself say “crystals”, but the word would not form. She tried “rainbows” but that would not come either. Even when she tried to image them her mind would not obey.
Duvät Gok smiled. With rough fingers he ripped her underwear aside and entered her again.
You are MINE!
His body thumped into hers. There was nothing but pain. When it was over, he stood up and shoved her with his foot.
“Get out.”
She picked herself up and ran to her own tent.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She cowered in the corner. What should she do? What had he done to her? Her mind felt as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer. It was already late and she had not returned with the containers she had been sent for. If she went outside, Duvät Gok would be there. What should she do? How could she hide this from the others?
The defiled clothing went into her brazier. As the smoke rose, she wrapped herself in a blanket and stared into the flames, wishing they could cleanse the Overlord’s attentions from her body.
Lind?
She turned toward the call of Ubaid, still far south.
I’m fine, she lied. The healer knew of her episode with Huldar. She had told him much of what had happened while he treated the bites and the sprained ankle – but Naghari were deeply empathic. Ubaid was already concerned for her wellbeing. How could she keep them from finding out about Duvät’s attack? But if she didn’t, or he even thought she might not, he would kill her. Of that she was certain.
The others will return soon, Ubaid said. His tones were caring. Don’t be too much longer.
A burst of energy galvanized her. She found fresh clothing and as she left her tent she carried herself as confidently as if nothing had happened, for so it must be. Thankfully, Duvät Gok was nowhere to be seen, but she could feel his presence like a slumbering canker. After gathering the containers from stores, she stepped through a series of portals and was back in the southern camp. She unloaded her cargo with brusque movements, ready to retreat to her own space as quickly as possible, but standing in her way was Ubaid. He looked at her with kind Naghari eyes, and suddenly it was too much.
Shh, he said, shh … and held her while she sobbed into his chest. She knew he would never pry – it was not the Naghari way. When she had calmed he stroked her head and looked into her eyes.
Better?
She longed to tell him that nothing could make it better.
There will be others, Ubaid said. Huldar is a fine leader, an exceptional ecologist, but he is not the only person in the Realm.
More tears came and she wiped them away. If she said nothing more, the others might believe that too.
Tam called out as Arko and Gento returned from the field. The smell of cooking made her queasy. She pushed her lips into a smile. I’ll be all right.
Ubaid’s expression was understanding. You just need time. He took her hand and a wave of healing travelled up her arm, warming her from the inside out. With a swift nod he released her. You know that Alis and I are here for you.
Sari and Nachiel were next to arrive through the portal. When Sari saw her, she came over. “Are you all right?”
Lind nodded. “Just a bit off color. What were you two laughing at?”
“Nachiel was doing one of his impersonations. Guess who!” Sari assumed a haughty expression. “Where are those reports? I am answerable to the God-Emperor himself!”
Lind overcame a sudden wave of panic and did her best to laugh along with her friends, but when Duvät Gok arrived for dinner, it was all she could do not to vomit. As she left the marquee, she felt him watching and straightened her spine. Whatever came next, she would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear again.
HEADING NORTH
“Tomorrow we go north,” Huldar said. “The polar opposite. Days will be short. Time will be tight. Temperatures colder than here, but endurable. I have found a site for us on the shores of a narrow inlet. It’s sheltered from the winds, but that’s about as good as it gets. Take only what we need, and remember, up on the Northern Shelf, just like here, it turns from cold to frigid in an instant.
“We’ll concentrate our efforts on the areas the Overlord has marked, but I’ll not risk our lives unduly. If the weather is unfavorable, well, he’ll just have to live with that.”
“He still spends his days lounging in the eastern continent foothills, the lazy kalla,” said Bush. “Then he expects to be fed! When’s he going to start pulling his weight?”
Casco squinted at the fire. “Can’t say I miss him, but what’s he up to?”
“Well, he’ll have to join us at some point if he wants to make contact with the Realm,” Huldar continued. “The weather is our ultimate enemy. When it turns, I believe the change will be rapid. When we’re done at the northern end of the planet, we’ll return here to the south. From here, we’ll let the weather chase us east – then finally back to the center to wrap up.”
“What about our communications window?” said Nachiel. “When will the Hermes contact us?”
“Do they message you first,” Gento asked, “or the Gok?”
Huldar nodded. “I spoke to the Hermes before we left. He assured me he’d speak to me first, but Duvät is our Overlord and we have to respect that.”
“So long as he doesn’t spend all our time whingeing to his wife!”
Huldar lifted his hand. “I raised similar points with the Hermes and he said that if such a problem became apparent, he would assign a second Ziquarudjan to us.”
“Good!” said Casco.
“One more thing.” Huldar hesitated. “We have been asked to say nothing of the nacrite finds as yet.”
“Why not?”
“As you are no doubt aware, these deposits are extremely rare and valuab
le, but their mining potential has yet to be established. The Overlord has asked that we keep the knowledge to ourselves to avoid undue speculation.”
“Until he can buy a stake, you mean!”
“Or sell the knowledge to the Faythans.”
“Be that as it may,” Huldar said, “he is our Overlord and he has asked this of us.”
“Asked?”
“Ordered, then,” Huldar admitted. “Despite the semantics, the effect is the same, so please …?”
With that, the meeting came to a close and, despite the complaints about Duvät Gok, Andel saw the mood of the group begin to ease. Bush and Topper laughed at something Arko said, Tam stirred the stew with renewed vigor, and even Ubaid seemed animated in his conversation with Alis.
“Who will you speak to first, Lady Andel?” Sari asked.
“My father.” She imagined the familiar sound of his voice, thoughtful and always full of questions. He would be counting the days until their contact, she was sure. “And you?”
“And me?” Sari’s smile was gentle. “My sister’s youngest, little Samiel,” she said, then laughed. “Not so little any more. Six hundred summers; he’ll be of age before we get back, strapping young lad he is. My sister said they’d have another bit of a ceremony after I get home, just so’s I don’t feel left out.” The older angel sighed. “And I can hardly wait to hold the grand-babies in my arms again.” She hugged her arms across her chest and rocked as if there was already a little one in them.
“You miss them,” Andel said. “And the name – Samiel?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I have a friend whose son is called Samiel! It’s rare for two people to have the same name. Maybe they were kindred spirits in their last life.”
Sari nodded. “Kindred spirits? Maybe.” But Andel could see her mind was still with her family. She turned to Lind. “What about you?”
Lind blinked as if the question surprised her. “I … haven’t thought. I don’t know.”
“No family?”
“No. Well, yes.” Lind shrugged her shoulders. “I have an aunt, and a cousin or two, but I don’t know where they are. Not exactly.”
Planet Walkers Page 15
