Sera threw her hands to her face and dropped hear head, but despite herself, she burst into laughter. She was embarrassed and amused. Jerad was over her in an instant. It was then that Sera discovered that her hand had a mind of its own as well, because the little traitor fit itself nicely around his hardness and stroked it like it was a beloved pet. Jerad groaned with her unexpected touch, his breath growing heavy with desire.
Sera’s entire body went into mutiny. Her knees bloomed open in wanton longing and her nipples budded as Jerad pressed himself against her, forcing her back to the ground. He fit his hips snuggly between her thighs.
"So, what’s up, doc?" she asked nervously.
Now where did that come from, and why was she thinking about a carrot?
"Need you ask?" He inhaled sharply, and stroked his erection against her.
Nope, not a carrot.
Zucchini maybe.
"I am hopeless to deny the hunger for you, that thrives within me, wife."
And outside too, she thought, feeling his member hardened even further.
Being fully clothed and draped by a wet, nude, hard body was undeniably erotic.
Jerad’s mouth descended on hers, his tongue seeking entrance. Sera willingly parted her lips, responding by thrusting her tongue to taste him. His mouth was so tight on hers that she could scarcely breathe, or perhaps it was just that she had forgotten how to breathe.
Nai, she was breathless in the throes of his delicious trespass, an aching urgency building inside her.
The rational side of her brain, the one that should have been screaming, "Stop before its too late!" had given furlough to her sensibilities, and seized her apprehension along the way. Sera’s qualm wilted to Jerad’s seductive foray.
Oh hell! She was his wife. She was obligated to perform her wifely duties, right?
Wifely duties.
Yah, uh huh.
There was another name for what she was feeling at the moment, all of it pleasant, and well beyond her spousal obligations.
Sera closed her eyes and tried to inhale, catching his breath as it entered the chamber of her mouth. His hands moved to the neckline of her dress and he slipped the material off of her shoulders, exposing the tops of her breasts. He kissed the swollen flesh there. One hand cupped the bottom of her breast through the material and Sera arched up to greet it, as his thumb played across her hardened nipple. He splayed the fingers of his other hand through her hair and grasped her locks to tilt her head back. Then he suckled at her throat. Sera’s hands roamed his body, seeking, caressing him along his muscular back to his firm buttocks, as she slowly rocked her pelvis against him. Jerad responded in like manner.
Jerad shifted to one side and gathered her skirt to caress the bare skin of her thigh. He ran his palm down the outside then up along the inside, relishing in the feel of her satiny flesh until he reached her juncture. He stroked his thumb along the crevice hidden beneath her curls, barely brushing her hardened nub. Sera bucked and moaned at the incredible sensation, ready to combust at any moment. He groaned at the heated moisture he discovered there.
A loud screech caused Sera to open her eyes. A falcon was circling the sky, high overhead. Sera’s eyes wandered to the top of the escarpment above the garden. There was a male form on the ridge above. Sera could not make out his features. The light of the rise behind him cast him into shadow, but nonetheless, there he stood, motionless, watching.
Sera stiffened. Jerad felt her grow rigid beneath him and drew back to query her sudden change. He followed her distracted gaze toward the ledge, and then released a frustrated grumble.
For the love of the Origins! Was there some amoral plot to keep him from mating with his wife?
Jerad rose to his feet and donned his trousers. He approached the embankment and began climbing upward, using the thick, ivy branches growing from the wall, for support. Sera rearranged her clothing to cover herself and watched as Jerad reached the onlooker. Both men disappeared beyond the ledge.
"Aryan my confidante." Jerad greeted the warrior with a halting tenor.
Jerad raised a palm to receive an informal greeting, summoning every thread of self-restraint to keep from strangling the warrior for the interruption.
Aryan did not respond. Jerad lowered his hand.
"You are always welcomed at my door, but perhaps it is the door you should use when you call."
Aryan stepped closer to Jerad and sniffed hard. He snarled, curling his lip with distaste. "I can smell her on you."
Aryan gave a visible snap of his head to show his disdain.
Jerad clenched his fists. He knew what the warrior was about. He meant to antagonize Jerad, and indeed his crude comment left Jerad feeling indignant.
"I suggest you keep thoughts of my consort out of your head," Jerad responded caustically. His palm landed on Aryan’s groin with a forceful clench, "and from here."
Aryan was immediately enraged. He drew back a fist and connected it to the side of Jerad’s jaw. The blow was hard enough to unsteady Jerad, but not enough to cause him to fall. A trickle of blood emerged from the corner of his mouth. Jerad wiped it with the back of his tightened fist. Aryan stood grounded, with a look of disgust. Then he darted a pointed finger at Jerad.
"She is dead because of you."
Jerad grabbed Aryan by the shoulders facing him squarely.
"She is dead by her own doing. She could have refused the Challenge. She could have called a halt."
"And disgrace her honor? You knew she would never have done that."
"You know, as do I, that it was her pride she defended, not her honor."
"You have committed a betrayal against my house, Jerad."
"And what of you? What is your rendering of this?"
"It matters naught what I think. My mother is grievous and infuriated. As the oldest scion it is expected that I will bring charge."
"And what of your sire? Is it not his place to bring implication to the Magistrate Council?"
"My father dithers with his loyalties."
A wise decision, Jerad thought. Aryan’s father Angus, now retired, once held the Chief Council seat. He and Shegarth were still close confidantes. Jerad expected that Angus was in despair over the loss of Sondra, but he was a just man. Angus would have investigated the circumstances regarding the Challenge for the Cloak, and found the outcome did not breach the boundaries of their laws. Creating discord on this issue, which could divide the opinions of the Magistrate Council, would be an irresponsible thing for Angus to do.
Jerad considered briefly, that he should reveal Sera’s true identity to Aryan. He, just as Mekal, had taken an oath of guardianship of the Key. Aryan, much like his father, was an honorable man. It would then be Aryan’s obligation to protect the Ptino asteri, to protect Sera, and disloyal to the Edict to find antipathy against her.
Jerad immediately squelched the thought. Aryan, as it was with many of his kinsmen, had grown apathetic toward the Edict, believing it to be a disputable myth--a child’s tale. Some had even come to question that the Origins ever existed and that Gaia too, was the workings of an ancestor’s imagination. Aryan might balk at the idea of Sera being the Ptino asteri. It was better that Aryan thought that Jerad merely wanted Sera as wife, less he mention Jerad’s notion to others.
Ochi.
If it became known that Sera was the Starbird of the Edict, the Fourth Zone would in like hear of it. As had happened with Argilos and Tomas, they would surely descend on the Tenth Zone with a vengeance, seeking to claim both Sera and the Key to Orion’s belt. He decided that the fewer who knew, the safer Sera would be. It was of utmost importance that he did not risk the passing of the prophecy and the future of Protogio. He must guard Sera’s relevance to the Edict with his life.
Jerad looked at his friend. Not once could he recall Aryan ever looking at him with such contempt. It was disturbing, but also understandable.
"It is my honor you should defend my friend. Sondra was not fitting to take for a wife. Always, you have k
nown what I intended when it came time to offer my crest. Do you deny it?"
Aryan’s flinch did not go unnoticed by Jerad, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. Aryan’s countenance hardened. His arms came up between Jerad’s, and with an outward thrust, he forcefully disengaged Jerad’s grasp on him. Aryan hooted twice, calling his falcon. The bird came to perch on his gauntlet.
Jerad cocked his head back. If Aryan was of mind to be his foe, so be it.
"You are trespassing on my property Aryan," Jerad stated firmly, showing little emotion, other than the slight twitch to one side of his mouth. He deeply regretted the loss of Aryan’s friendship. Since childhood, they had been as brothers--inseparable. He could only hope that some rise, Aryan would come to understand and mayhap absolve him.
Aryan backed away. His glare fixated on Jerad. His expression warned of retribution as he disappeared around the corner of the castle.
Jerad returned to Sera.
Sera was sitting on a divan near the bookshelves. A book was open on her lap. She had found the journal of Argilos and flipped it open to the first page. There was a time of entry and information on the Gaians’ first rise on Protogio.
It read:
First Hour 0900: We are amazed at the vivid colors and realistic images that our linking has created. Thomas verifies that his visions coincide with mine. It is indeed fascinating. There are people here and they call this world Protogio. We are enthralled with our ability to interact with such imagery, but they are irrelevant to our work. We will try to ignore them, but their interest in us might make that an impossible task.
Linking?
There was something bothersome about the word.
Sera did not read further. Her thoughts were suddenly distracted by Jerad’s story of the Gaian’s who had visited Protogio before her arrival. Jerad claimed that the Gaians often appeared and disappeared like magical spirits. This puzzled her. It was irrational to think such a thing. Perhaps they were merely being elusive with their arrivals and departures, not wishing to disclose the location of their ship. Such a sophisticated vessel might incite fear in a culture as primitive as this one. Or it could be that they needed to keep it safe from confiscation by the Protogions. Sera could readily envision the people here dissecting the craft to inspect its workings, thus leaving her fellow travelers stranded. Another, but more unlikely thought, occurred to her. Was it possible that there was an advanced technology on her world that she had yet to recall, one capable of transporting a person from place to place without use of a vehicle? It would explain Jerad’s claim that she too had appeared from thin air. Sera turned her head upward, looking through the crukis skylight window. Was there a ship out there awaiting her call?
The explosion.
Sera’s heart sank. The one face she remembered from the crash, was the same face she recalled while watching Jerad hug Phoebe.
Her brother.
Was he dead? Had she transported from the spacecraft before it exploded?
Sera slammed the book shut and dropped her head with a despondent sigh.
Why can’t I remember?
She was pulled from her thoughts when Jerad returned to the chamber. He sat facing her, spreading one leg to each side of the bench. Sera looked up at him, and they silently stared at each other for several moments.
A crushing sense of guilt was consuming Jerad.
Damn you Sondra. Why did you have to be so stubborn? I did not expect your blood on my hands. I never wanted you to die!
He had caused such tremendous sorrow within Aryan’s clan. How much more havoc would he reap for the sake of the Edict? How many more of his kinsman would question his loyalty before this over?
Jerad reached out to skim a thumb along Sera’s cheek. It was soft and warm under his touch.
So lovely.
And those eyes-- eyes that looked like they devoured the sun.
Did others feel the same when they looked at her, or did this strange allure he possessed for her belong solely to him? Aryan’s comment about Sera’s scent, and the thought of Aryan observing Jerad’s lovemaking with her deeply irked him. The idea of Aryan-- of other men, obsessing over Sera, left him seething. Despite the Edict an overwhelming need to care for Sera engulfed him.
Sera is my wife.
Jerad felt reckless where Sera was concerned. All of his actions, since finding her, had been committed impulsively, irrationally, when he had never done so before. At swordplay or table gambling, even in the hunt for wild beasts driving them into traps, or over cliffs to the waiting arrows of his hunters, always he acted with tactic in mind.
Until now.
With Sera, he had no plan, knew not where this plight was leading, except that it must be allowed to go forward.
A knot wound tighter than a bow string squeezed inside of his chest. He dismissed the sensation as mere anxiety over the immense responsibility bestowed on him as Keeper of the Key and his obligation to his people.
Nai. There was an extrinsic command that was driving his actions.
And his infatuation with Sera.
He had married her by order of the Edict, he rationalized. The Oneroi were to blame for this peculiar devotion he felt for her. They were guiding his and Sera’s fate and feelings. There could be no other explanation.
"Who was that?" Sera finally broke the silence.
"Aryan, Noble Chancellor of the Second Corridor."
"He is your friend, isn‘t he?"
"That is a thing that is in question at the moment."
Sera lifted a finger and traced it along his furled brow. He was strikingly handsome, but the fidelity she felt for him went well beyond simple physical attraction. There was an odd pressure in her heart when she looked at--when she thought about him, and she could not escape the nagging command that impelled her toward him like an overpowering magnetic force.
"He frightens me, Jerad. Even Ezra seemed unsettled by his aggression in the Grandstage earlier this rise."
"I would agree. There was much anger in his sword."
His expression softened.
"Do not fret overmuch my Starbird." He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. "His growl is oft worse than his chomp."
Sera pursed her lips and drew her eyebrows together. She did not believe him.
Seeing he had done little to alleviate her concern, and not knowing what else to say, he did what any sensible male would do.
He changed the subject.
"What is this you are reading?" He turned the book to get a better look at it. "Ah Nai, the Gaian’s journal. It was left behind. I learned some of their language, but not the letter symbols. I have been unable to discern the written words. Do you understand it?"
Sera nodded.
"Read it to me."
Sera inadvertently opened the journal to the last entry and read the passage.
Final Hour 1500: We have completed the final phase of our journey and have much to report, but the circumstances in our research have taken on more complexities than we had anticipated. Although our research has only carried us through a single day, our time on Protogio has extended over several weeks time. We suspect there is more authenticity to this venture than anyone would allow us to believe, but I feel it is something we must explore further. In regard to the people here, I have endeared them to me. I cannot deny that I will truly miss them. For now, the Chief Councilor Angus has informed us that the soldiers from the Fourth Zone are marching toward us. We will likely, not be present, to witness the final outcome. I bid you farewell my precious Protogio, and I leave you with these last words:
In the quiet of the night when cool, gentle whispers of breezes
caress my face with a glimmer of starlight,
I am lured by majestic visions, which draw me
deeper into the depths of this mysterious porthole,
revealing brilliant horizons beyond,
too far to reach, yet dear to my heart,
I will never forget you, my castle in the air."
Sera stared at the words, studied them, memorized them. She laced her fingers together and pressed her clenched hands to her lips.
1500...military hours--three o’clock p.m.
Phase.
A single…day?
A string of disjointed pictures and voices played through Sera’s memories. She could see her own hand penning words,
POSSUM, Phase I: 0800.
And hear her own voice saying, Yes sir…got it…
Jerad watched as Sera’s expression turned from awareness to confusion. "You are remembering Sera?"
"I thought… there was something. I don’t know." Sera shook her head. "It was nothing I understand."
She looked downcast. Jerad could not even imagine what it would be like to be tumbled into a foreign place with his mind a stranger to itself. His heart was suddenly heavy with compassion for Sera. How disturbing this dilemma must be for her.
He had done little to comfort her, yet she followed him blindly, trustingly.
"If ever you return to Gaia, you must seek Argilos out." His comment forced him to consider the possibility of Sera leaving him. Jerad cringed. He did not welcome the sinking feeling that thought gave him, and the likeliness that it would occur.
I am her husband.
The reality of that fact hit him harder than a falling boulder to the head. In that moment he realized that he was more than just her husband. He would die a thousand deaths if he ever had to let her go.
Chapter Twelve
Jerad and Sera were summoned from the dwelling, by courier. Their supper would be taken in Shegarth’s private meeting chamber, a stately room just inside the Great Hall. Following the meal, the Magistrate would hold assembly to discuss Zone issues among other matters.
Jerad pulled out a chair next to Phoebe and motioned for Sera to sit. He took a seat in the chair on Sera’s other side, the first chair next to the head of the table. Sera looked from one end of the impressive table to the other. It was a massive, oval shaped piece, made of ebony, large enough to accommodate at least forty people. Small daggers for cutting food and bowls of water with cloth napkins used for cleansing hands, were set about the table.
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