“I see,” Elizabete replied. “You give honesty, so you expect honesty.” She stared down at the amphitheater field for a long moment. “I asked for women because in our culture, women were long ago granted power as rulers and decision makers. We Lurrans are not receptive to foreign males. And,” she added softly, “because we hoped some of you would stay permanently.”
Down on the field, trumpets blared.
Hannah inhaled, seeing Mikolaus. He wore leather body armor and carried an oval shield and a long sword.
Elizabete said, “Mikolaus carries the long sword designed for fighting the nobles.”
Mikolaus acknowledged the spectators with a 360-degree turn and a bow. He pointed his sword at Hannah and the Ambassador.
“A display of respect,” Elizabete said, “to the top-ranking women in the crowd.”
Mikolaus returned to the center of the field. With a mighty yell, he brought up his shield and his sword. An attacker with a long sword rushed him with an overhand strike. Mikolaus sidestepped, pushed the attacker with his shield, spun and brought his sword down for a kill strike.
Hannah gasped aloud, certain the edged blade would slice the opponent through—but Mikolaus maintained perfect control of the weapon, stopping an inch from the other man’s skin.
Another attack came from the side, and Mikolaus turned and met him head on with a slashing strike that would have halved a grown man in two had Mikolaus not stopped the strike in time.
Three more men took on the Master Gladiator, but he outmanned them all. Hannah was exhausted just watching how long he kept that heavy sword in motion.
Trumpets blew again and assistants relieved Mikolaus of his longsword and shield. In their place, he swung a short sword.
“We call this the eye-picker,” Elizabete commented. “For fighting the Outlanders in close combat.”
Hannah grimaced at the nomenclature, baring her teeth in horror. “They won’t pick any―”
“Not tonight,” Elizabete said. “But not that long ago—and still in some places or Lurra—a short sword is your friend.”
Hannah watched the incredible footwork. Mikolaus was nimble for someone so muscular. He slashed and stabbed and danced from incoming strikes, always one step ahead of his attackers.
“How does he do that?” Hannah asked.
“The training begins in childhood and is ongoing. Those who are exceptionally talented are given full scholarship and privileges while they train at the academy. Mikolaus’s triad is undefeated in the arena and in the field.”
“Where is the rest of his triad now? Why is Mikolaus the only one of the three in the demonstration?”
One side of Elizabete’s lips quirked up in a half-grin. “I worried a full triad of Lurran gladiators might be … intimidating to some delegates.”
Hannah glanced around at the seated men and women around her. Several of the female delegates from E2 sat with male companions. One Lurran male for every E2 female.
Her gaze flew to Elizabete’s face. “There are no triads here, are there?”
“Not yet.” The ambassador’s voice was mild. “Watch this,” she said, pointing to the field. “This particular maneuver is one that Mikolaus developed himself.”
Hannah allowed herself to be distracted. Below, Mikolaus twirled around his opponent and then, as if defying gravity itself to stop him, actually somersaulted over his opponent, coming up under the other man, the eye-picker aimed at his face, another knife at his throat.
“You still have occasion to use these weapons?” Hannah asked, a little breathless. She couldn’t imagine such a lawless state—there was very little crime on E2.
“Yes. I wasn’t jesting about the short sword. You should have one in your gift package.”
A parade of trumpets blared again, and Mikolaus traded his short sword for a weapon Hannah didn’t recognize.
“Cross-bow,” Elizabete said. “For hunting game.”
Hannah leaned forward and pursed her lips in a silent oh as targets were placed from one end of the arena to the other. Mikolaus positioned a sharp shaft in the crossbow and drew back a launching strap. One, two, three shafts he sent to targets from a standing position. Other targets he assaulted at a dead run, jumping over obstacles, dipping behind shelter, and rolling head first on the ground and coming up to launch a shaft. The targets were brought forward so the spectators could see—
“All dead center,” Hannah said, clapping. She was getting caught up in the excitement, the amazement of seeing what Mikolaus could do. “What’s next?”
“Hand to hand,” Elizabete answered.
Hannah lifted her shoulders with an unexpected thrill. She had no idea what hand to hand was, but if it involved Mikolaus’ hands, she was in.
An assistant came out to help Mikolaus remove his leather armor. The arm guards, the shin guards, thigh panels, and breast and back collars fell away. He stood bare except for short pants that hit him mid-thigh.
Hannah caught her breath—his incredible musculature was a thing of beauty.
Elizabete leaned over and whispered, “Makes you want to reach out and touch him, doesn’t it?”
Hannah chose not to answer, but she couldn’t help but grin—until the action began.
Multiple attackers surrounded Mikolaus and each charged him at will.
Hannah watched in fascination, leaning forward and clutching the edge of the stone seat.
Mikolaus was faster than her eye could follow. He moved with precision, striking so fast Hannah often only heard the impact. He pivoted and sidestepped and kicked, and a couple of times he even flipped. He struck his opponents again and again, so fast she couldn’t even see. But the yelps of pain were proof enough.
“How can he move so fast?” she whispered. “How does he know where to be and what to do?”
“Mikolaus has studied the human body his entire life,” Elizabete answered. “He knows every place that causes pain and every place that causes pleasure.”
Hannah heard the suggestive words and felt the ambassador’s eyes on her. A slow burn came to her cheeks in spite of her attempt at being unaffected by Mikolaus. She lifted her chin and once again refused to take the bait.
The display of weapons assaulted Hannah’s view of the world. There was no bloodletting on E2. The reality that someone had to actually fight, to spill blood and hack limbs off and end another’s life, settled into her psyche.
She so admired his body, a work of beauty. Yet, suddenly she understood that beautiful body was created for one reason―killing.
Now she understood what was needed to create and preserve this amazing life…
Death.
Chapter 7
Kazen, chief of the Outlanders paced back and forth. “Galicia serves a state dinner, while we starve,” he ranted to his closest advisor, Benin.
He whipped around, his agitation burning over this latest information from the city. “It’s not right Outlanders are forced to live like animals because we want a different life—a different marriage.”
Benin nodded.
Anger and frustration warred with Kazen’s logic and sense of self-preservation. Finally, he said, “We’ll continue to have no voice on Lurra unless we force their hand and get their attention.”
Benin sat up straight, worry filling his face. “What are you planning?”
Kazen stopped pacing and placed his hands on his hips, nodding decisively. “We take one of the Earth-2 delegates,” he announced.
The moment the words were out, Benin’s face crinkled with surprise, and a bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you gone mad?” He rose and approached Kazen. “What do you intend to achieve with that crazy move?”
“That crazy move,” Kazen replied, “will get us the attention of E2 and the Earthen Diaspora Alliance. If Inlanders negotiate an alliance between Lurra and the EDA, they’ll lock in the triad/quad social structure. If we’re ever going to have a place on Lurra, now is the time to speak up.”
He waved at wha
t surrounded them. “You’re happy to live like this? When they are serving state dinners in Galicia?” He returned to his pacing.
Benin stepped out of Kazen’s way. “Have you really thought this through? Who will you kidnap? How will you do it?”
“I didn’t say ‘kidnap’. I said ‘take’.”
Benin rolled his eyes at his leader. “Whatever you want to call it. How will you do it?”
“Eventually, one of them will go to that triad bar. You know the one. Zerura,” Kazen said. “We wait and catch one coming out after too much Kastasha—that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Benin’s silent lips slanted skeptically.
“No one gets hurt,” Kazen protested. “We’ve been in the city before and returned. This is no different.”
“I’m not sure you’ve thought this through.”
“We simply want to talk and have someone hear us. The EDA is civilized. Once we have one of the delegates, they will talk to us.”
Benin’s voice was flat, unenthusiastic. “Or kill us.”
* * *
Waking, Hannah rolled over in the obscenely large bed and stretched her full length without hitting either end.
I could get used to this.
She sat up, remembering the plans for her day.
“Lurra and her seductive ways,” she murmured aloud.
Mikolaus was taking her around the city. She looked in her closet. “Hm. What’s appropriate for that?”
By E2 standards, nothing here is appropriate.
“Good.” She spoke aloud this time, lifting her shoulders with excitement.
So many colors to choose from.
In the bath, she turned on the water in the tub and added one of the scents. Fragrant steam rose as she stripped and settled in.
When he walked her to her door after the gladiatorial demonstration, Mikolaus had encouraged her to try the other bathing bottles. She’d chuckled. “On E2 we don’t even have baths.” His stare of outright horror had sent her into peals of laughter.
“How do you get clean?” He asked, his hair still damp and curling from his own, probably hurried bath after his workout.
She shrugged. “The chem-showers. Same as in space. Water’s for drinking.”
The clothing, the food, the bath, the freedom to be different—all were heady, enticing daily experiences. As far as Hannah could see, the social Lurran norm of sensuality was a palpable presence in everyday life.
She chose for her outfit a light purple tunic with black belt and black knee boots. A deep purple leather vest decorated with white metal accents covered the tunic, and her hair she still kept in a braid, but not her typical tightly woven braid—instead, she left the weave loose and pulled the braid forward over her shoulder. She smoothed her hands over the exotic clothing, enjoying the textures and color.
These choices―it’s like discovering who I really am.
A knock at her door made Hannah’s stomach churn with giddy excitement. Everything on Lurra made her feel alive.
“Coming,” she called. With her heart hammering against her ribs, she opened the door.
His eyes raked her head to toe and returned to her face. She watched his eyes study her slightly different braided hair―and he smiled. Hannah looked down. His approval accelerated her already hyper-sensitized state—she hoped she wasn’t too obvious.
“To the market,” he declared. “We shall eat in the street.”
He wore thigh-length pants and a short-sleeved tunic, showing his bulging biceps and forearms. She took his offered arm. When her hand settled against his bare skin, a thread of desire shot through her limbs, leaving behind a warmth spreading through her body.
This is why I went off-planet.
“Show me Lurra,” she commanded, a wide smile on her face.
The air was already warm as Mikolaus drew her along, weaving through the streets. Corner buildings were marked with street names, but Hannah gave up trying to understand where they were. She saw children playing with their strange toys—once again, the sounds of their laughter echoed up and down the streets. A myriad of delectable scents suggested a variety of lunch offerings.
“Your life is so vibrant,” she said. “I didn’t realize until coming here, but on E2 there’s no real color, no smell, no…” She searched for the right word. “No individualism.”
They came to a corner where several streets converged in a large open square. “What’s this?”
“Vendors,” Mikolaus explained, taking her hand and waving at the various booths. “They bring their wares into the city for sale. Different days feature different goods, but fresh harvest comes from the farms every day.”
Hannah felt her eyes bug. “I’ve never seen food like this.” As he led her from stall to stall, she strained to see it all at once. Suddenly her mouth watered, and with that came a flash of anger. “I can’t believe what I’ve been eating all my life,” she lamented.
Mikolaus offered her a slice of deep pink fruit. “Eat the pink part, not the green. Bend over, like this,” he said.
Hannah mimicked Mikolaus and bit into the pink fruit flesh. A surprising crunchy texture came with an explosion of sweet juice. “Oh,” she squealed as juice ran down her chin.
Mikolaus laughed and passed her a cloth as she finished. “We’re just getting started,” he said with a wink. “Next we have a bakery.”
As they walked, he continued pointing out various features of the market. “Many of the stalls are permanent, though their occupants vary—many of the older quads pass on their market space to family members who share, or rent them out to several tenants who rotate occupation. But around the edges of the market”—he pointed to the taller buildings—“are the permanent structures.”
Half a block later, they ducked into an open doorway. The room was hot and several fans circulated the air. A large stone structure in the back radiated heat.
“We love our sweets, but there’s no wheat,” Mikolaus said. “The original wheat shipped to the colony was genetically engineered—for Earth, not Lurra.” He pointed to a pastry and ordered from the smiling man behind a counter. “Two please.”
The smell made Hannah close her eyes for a moment to inhale and appreciate the intoxicating scents. She all but moaned with delight, taking the treat Mikolaus offered as he continued his history lesson.
“When the modified wheat seed was planted, an enzyme in the soil created a substance toxic to Y-chromosome DNA. The result was the plague—the cancer that wiped out seventy percent of our female population.”
Hannah was about to bite into her lovely pastry when she stopped mid-point with her mouth open.
“Don’t worry,” Mikolaus laughed. “We have developed Lurran substitutes.”
Next door to the bakery was a drink bar, where he ordered two steaming cups. “This is txokolatea.” Hannah mouthed the unfamiliar word. “We drink this in the morning and sometimes at night—if you want to stay up late,” Mikolaus continued.
“Is this what they used to call ‘hot chocolate’? I’ve never had chocolate—it was banned long ago. But I’ve read about it in the history books.” She blew on her cup, watching the heavy cream on top scud across the surface. She took a deep drink and came up smiling.
Mikolaus laughed. “You have a moustache,” he said, indicating her upper lip.
Hannah passed her tongue over her lip. Before she could say anything, Mikolaus bent over and kissed her. It was short and sweet, and entirely intoxicating for all its brevity.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since we met,” he said, and winked.
Hannah had never been so free and happy. Her clothes were outlandish, her guide was outright gorgeous, and the food and ambiance were beyond her imagination. She laughed aloud for the sheer joy of living.
Mikolaus tugged her along. They passed street artists creating vibrant paintings as they watched. Vendors sold tunics and leather goods, and jewelry made of crystals and white and yellow metal. A purple crystal surrounded on on
e side by smaller glittering stones with sparkling rainbow colors in their depths caught Hannah’s eye.
Mikolaus picked up the necklace—it hung on a chain of white metal. “Purple is the color of the Goddess Jainkosa, the great creator and ruler of everything.”
“It’s beautiful,” Hannah whispered.
“Turn around,” he said.
Hannah turned her back to him. His hands slipped around her neck with the necklace. The stone hung near her heart. “Why the little stones only on one side?” She touched the purple crystal and noted it warming within her grasp.
Mikolaus secured the necklace and turned her back to face him. “Half-encircled represents the half―the half that is incomplete.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. He stood very close, his heat and scent enveloping Hannah and making her almost dizzy from the sense she continued to encounter on Lurra of passing into a newly sensual realm.
“The Goddess Jainkosa rules with her Triad, completing the Divine Quad,” Mikolaus added. His voice purred into her ear.
She considered protesting the extravagant gift, but her heart wasn’t in it. “So your Quad exists in your religion? I’m not surprised—it supports Lurra’s social structure and mores.”
“Do you have issue with our social mores?” he asked. He pulled back and frowned.
Hannah touched the crystal, feeling the smaller stones congregated on one side. The other side smooth, waiting for completion. “No. I think your mores are clearer than anything I’ve ever seen on E2.”
They walked on, passing a collection of statues surrounding a fountain. Hannah said, “What you do with water here is amazing—and yet another thing not permitted on E2.”
“Fountains represent the continuity of life,” Mikolaus said simply.
“The continuity of life?” Hannah asked, surprised. “Isn’t that a bit ambitious, given your history?”
“We surprise you?” he returned with equal disbelief. “We never gave up. We adhered to the solidity of the Quad to stop the warring. Our recovery to this point supports keeping the structure. We’re a people of great faith.”
Hannah nodded, more intrigued by the quad than she wanted to reveal. “Tell me about Lurran children,” she said.
Mikolaus: Seduced by the Gladiators Page 4
