Ruler's Concubine

by Peri Elizabeth Scott

  The underlying excitement in his first servant’s voice gave Lysett pause. He gestured for the man to continue.

  “No one was badly injured, although there were some bruises and contusions, and certainly some damaged pride. But the prize…” Bast visibly swelled with pride, his chest out and shoulders back. “Ruler, this is a warrior race of women when given the opportunity. Think of the offspring from such a joining!”

  “What?” Lysett thought his roar of a question might have been heard in the far reaches of his dwelling and sought to calm himself. “Explain. And assure me none of the females were among those injured.”

  “No, Sire. Forgive me. I should have been specific.” Bast blinked his eyes and gave Lysett an anxious look. “We gathered nearly one hundred women—ninety-eight—from several small towns and surrounding area on the large continent where the weather fluctuates wildly each season. Regrettably, twelve of the women lost their minds upon being taken and had to be sequestered and medicated. The remainder were more docile and were given a mere hint of an anti-anxiety drug to ease the transport.”

  As much as he wanted to know more about the warrior race of women, and vastly relieved none had been harmed, Lysett inquired about those twelve who had gone insane.

  “They will likely be returned, Master. The brainwashing appears irreversible in the short term, although we believe once back with their kin and away from our troops, they should settle down.” Bast was somber as he relayed the information. “And of those remaining, only fifty-nine were fertile. Eighteen of those were sterilized, and had apparently been willing to undergo the procedure.”

  “So the propaganda was effective,” Lysett reflected bitterly. “Twelve life-bringers too terrified of us to even hear what we offer, consider joining our ranks, and eighteen frightened into taking precautions to avoid bearing our children. Irreversible damage, even for our technology.”

  “Yes, Master. And the numbers are no better on the other ships, but there are still several thousand prospective females on their way to the presentation and the offer we will make. But we know at least forty-one of them have proven warrior status, so there is no doubt there will be more. The sedation was increased for the remainder on the other ships to avoid altercations and circumvent risk to the females.”

  Many Meridian females had been formidable warriors in the distant past until they became too valuable to risk in battle, by virtue of their gender and dwindling numbers. And the children of those females had risen to lead the most powerful Houses in the past. Lysett inhaled a deep breath, his hopes increasing as he released it. “Have you ascertained females who fit the criteria of my House?”

  “I have, Ruler. Tentatively. The most likely female is the leader who led the women in their siege on our troopers. She is fertile and pure. The other tests have yet to be performed. And there are several others who meet your specifications thus far.”

  He turned his attention back to the minor troubles on the one ship, and allowed himself to pursue it now, rather than consider having a female to breed. Trosan’s striking face rose up behind his eyelids and he forced them open, again breathing deeply to manage the sorrow.

  “What happened in the siege?”

  Bast outlined how the women, who had responded to the mild sedation, and didn’t display the abject terror of the dozen necessarily confined in the specially designed medical bay, had plotted to attempt some kind of escape. Lysett swallowed a smile at the description of those troopers conscripted into delivering food, being pinned down and held by several females working in tandem. They’d been handicapped by the need not to injure any of the females in any way, and forced to act subdued until someone relaxed their guard. Even then it was difficult to gain their feet and herd their would-be captors safely into corners of the chamber and keep them under watch.

  The ones who used the distraction to escape had been swiftly met by other troopers, led by the ship’s commanding officer. One of the females Bast selected to offer for his Master was responsible for taking that male down. Certainly not alone, and with considerable effort, but while no females were harmed in the resulting furor, many of the troops sported bloody noses and blackened eyes, not to mention sore genitals. They were apparently the favorite target for the warrior women, and Lysett hoped his troops had all been wearing armor to mitigate those blows.

  “I believe they were trying to take hostages and bargain to have the ship turned around. But they were restrained and their interviews will be conducted by our teams on the mother ship.” Bast smiled with pleasure.

  Despite the entertaining story, and everything going to plan, Lysett couldn’t muster up much anticipation. The thought of another female—even a warrior—didn’t appeal, and while he would do his duty, it would mean betraying Trosan’s memory.

  “And what of the plot to derail our plan?”

  Shaking his head, Bast replied. “Liaison Ashtun has yet to report any progress on that front. But he won’t abandon the task. He has set troops in secret among the populace, a difficult strategy considering how few the humans are in numbers, and the necessity to adjust our spies’ appearance.

  “His intent is to protect further brainwashing attempts. And I know he is searching closer to home. He also believes the plot started here.”

  “Then we’ll leave him to it. But ensure there is a choice of concubines for the Liasion.”

  “Certainly, Master.”

  He wondered if Ashtun would also struggle with the idea of taking another concubine, even if it was in the best interest of Meridia. The other man, too, had lost his mate, and her with child, as Lysett had come to learn.

  “Lady Trosan would approve of this, Master. She of all Meridians would see populating our planet again as a wonderful opportunity.” Bast’s kind words still grated, but Lysett heard the abject pain behind them. Again he wondered if Bast had felt something for Trosan—

  Shoving up from his seat, Lysett ordered, “If the female who led the others meets the remaining specifications and accepts the offer, then she is to be well prepared, both mentally and physically.” A virgin concubine was a prize beyond all others and he wouldn’t see the woman maltreated, especially if she lived up to his standards. “And ensure she understands the contract with the royal additions. Do not speak of it again until everything is in place. If she refuses, begin consultations with the others.”

  Bast’s voice was void of any inflection as he answered. “Of course, Ruler.”

  ****

  Of all the things Celeste had imagined, the offer set out by the Meridian presenter guy, Cleros, was the last thing she expected. After the aborted—and poorly planned—attempt to force the ship to turn back and let them disembark, the women had been returned to the same room. They were encouraged to wait against the hull while the carnage of the upturned food carts was cleaned up and taken away, and further refreshments delivered, but no harm had come to them. There weren’t even any threats made against their person in retaliation.

  While the troopers guarding them viewed them with wariness, there was no visible desire for retribution on any of their faces. If anything, Celeste saw respect and admiration written there, accompanied by the occasional rueful grimace when the males moved. She’d landed a solid punch to the groin of the alien she took down, and his nose was still swollen. Apparently these fighting men eschewed medical care for such trifling injuries. Like men all over, she reflected, remembering how her brother Maury ignored superficial cuts and bruises. The one he couldn’t ignore had become infected, and he’d died moaning and out of his mind with the poison … but she wasn’t thinking about that now. She was reflecting on the offer. The one she and nineteen others from her group had accepted upon being transferred to this mother ship.

  “So, you accepted, too.” Shirley’s voice was quiet and disembodied in the darkened space of the sleeping room. “I hope it was the lecture that appealed and not something they gave us to influence our agreement.”

  Celeste wondered about that,
as well. The offer seemed too good to be true, but with the conditions back on Earth… Yet surely some of the women had family there.

  In a nutshell, the Meridians were looking for breeding stock. Oh, it wasn’t couched in those terms. Rather, it was an awesome opportunity if the presenter was telling the truth. Nothing was said about why the aliens wanted to expand their bloodlines, but she suspected it had to be for very good reason, in order for them to lower themselves to purloin a few fertile gals from primitive planet Earth. She hadn’t missed the faint hint of scorn and contempt for her world and wondered if the others had noticed it. Not that she should have any loyalty to a place that had killed off the majority of its population and picked off her family, one-by-one.

  It was the other information that had really convinced her—and the rest of her sisters-in-arms. It had to be true because it explained the behavior of the Brownlee girl and the other two women the blonde—Jessica—had expressed concerns about. The Searchers were on the hunt because of the Meridians’ desire to make babies with Earth women. Someone in charge had decided that humans weren’t going to participate—probably a male someone, because the actions taken were out of fear, disgust, and ignorance, the usual human reaction to outside influence. It didn’t excuse what had been done to countless women.

  There had apparently been several thousand brought aboard the huge vessel, all of child-bearing years. A quarter had been brainwashed to the extent that they went catatonic upon even being approached by a Meridian trooper, and some had willingly agreed to earlier sterilization to avoid bearing an alien offspring. All of those women had apparently been returned to Earth, something she fervently hoped was true, and not put down like rabid animals or something. A fleeting thought that perhaps it might have been kinder, considering the state of her world and the people populating it, was dismissed instantly. She couldn’t let herself go there.

  “Celeste?”

  “Sorry. Just thinking everything that led up to this. I don’t believe we were drugged by that time or hypnotized. The offer seemed sincere.”

  “I thought so, too, but it’s a mess either way. And it would have been better to be approached back home, where we could have discussed it with others and made the choice.”

  While Celeste didn’t support the outright kidnapping of those of her gender, she positively hated the reaction of Earth’s de facto governments. Typical paternalistic assholes. How had they thought to populate Earth, for heaven’s sake, that they offered—likely encouraged—sterilization? And would brainwashed women ever want to have sex, having been scared so badly it might mean being forced by any male? What would happen to the children of such unions? Heads so far up their keisters…

  “It wouldn’t have been safe. Not where I was from. I’d be one of those crazy women now if they’d caught me.” She couldn’t repress a shiver. “I think this is the better deal, considering the way women are being treated back home.”

  Bedding rustled as Shirley moved around in her bunk. “It’s a chicken and egg thing, though. If these aliens had passed Earth by, maybe things would have been different.”

  Their situation had been brought about indirectly by the Meridians, but Celeste had nothing to return home to, and the fact the town she’d been headed for was now virtually bereft of fertile women meant the men would be a very real threat to those left behind. And to those being returned. She’d voiced that concern to the alien presenting the options to the throng of women who gathered to hear him out, and he had listened. In fact, he had made a note and assured her steps would be taken to address her apprehension. She hoped to believe him. “Can’t change the past, Shirley.”

  “Well, you seem to be dealing with it pretty well. I guess I’ll take a page out of your book and work on my optimism.” The other woman made a huffing sound, part laugh, part sigh, and left Celeste to her thoughts.

  It wasn’t lost on her that many of her original group viewed her as a leader of sorts, and while she was content to fall back into the ranks, it wasn’t always possible. Other women sought her opinion and her counsel, and she processed the information herself in open discussions with the others. The language barrier had been overcome with tiny earbuds, with the interpretive devices to be surgically inserted later. Women from all over the world now mingled, something Celeste knew she’d never have seen on Earth. Groups formed and separated, most splitting along age and cultural lines, but there was some overlap. If Celeste had to count the women now on board, women in all shapes and sizes, she’d estimate a few thousand.

  Concubines were highly respected, apparently revered on Meridia, and in no way viewed as sex slaves. This had been strongly emphasized and repeated. A few of the women had relaxed enough to crack jokes about sexual slavery not being a hardship if all the aliens were as good-looking and built as the troopers. Frank sexual conversations took place, accompanied by anatomically correct drawings, and there were no surprises on that front unless one considered that the aliens were really big—all over. Celeste covertly surveyed the other women and wondered what kind of experience they had with sex, seeing as she had exactly none. One couldn’t count Roy’s grabbing at her breasts and one sloppy kiss. How she’d ever seen anything in the man…

  It was pretty darn scary to be hurtling across the galaxy on the route to an alien world, and there were times she’d thought to ask for some of that sedation the Meridians had utilized upon their capture. There had been an apology for that as well, and a most sincere one regarding the physical examination in the medical room.

  A wave of that wand-like thing, that press on her belly, and a blood sample hardly seemed intrusive, but in truth, it did irk the majority of the women, including Celeste, when it was revealed the procedure had determined who was fertile, and who still possessed a hymen.

  She understood the sedation from the aliens’ perspective, especially given the chaos created by the reaction of those brainwashed, but the other was high-handed. And it meant crushing any hope of those who hadn’t been sterilized, yet now knew they couldn’t conceive. Although they got to go home—but to what? And what was the comment about virgins? Likely the Meridians wanted to go where no man had gone before, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was all very tiring to think through, and she questioned if honesty was always the best policy.

  If she remembered ancient Earth history correctly, any female marrying into the royal families of old had to submit to an examination to ascertain fertility, and reading that had made her sneer, despite how the world had changed, and not for the better. Far worse, she now admitted to romantic hopes, having changed her view about love, considering everything she’d recently experienced. She kept thinking about the love her parents shared, no matter the state of their lives. Even Laurel had something with Johann. Celeste knew it was perverse, and probably a reaction to thinking herself lost, then presented with a better future. But it was unlikely she’d find love on another planet when the matches were all about a contract, and she now decided she wanted something she couldn’t have.

  Ah, she couldn’t dwell on the past. With so little to recommend Earth to her, she’d agreed to take the offer and become a concubine. It felt surreal, but then nothing about the past few days was the least bit normal. It wasn’t as if she’d been going to find someone on Earth anyhow.

  She accepted her new position and would soon arrive on an alien world and find out what was expected of her. Like she didn’t know. Broodmare. Well, she liked kids and never expected to have any, considering her situation, so that might be okay. And if the Meridians held up their end of the bargain, then at least she’d be taken care of, and there were worse things in life. Even if she had no real choice.

  After all the hollow reassurances, finally shoving the feeling of being powerless into a small part of her brain, for now, she curled up in her designated sleep bunk and tugged the covers up over her ears. The large room she’d been assigned to held perhaps a hundred women, and the sounds of the others either slumbering or thinking
their own thoughts surrounded her, and sleep overtook her battered senses. She eventually fell into oblivion, much the same way as the time she’d fled the Searchers.

  Morning came, and she groggily rose with the others and used the facilities, shuffling along in the queue. It became apparent this was a huge operation, and someone knew a thing or two about organizing. Once showered, they were provided soft pieces of clothing, a loose top that pulled over one’s head, and a skirt that wrapped around the lower body to fasten at the waist. There was a length of fabric that alternately parted and joined with the help of some kind of sticky material. She learned it was to provide support to her breasts, and there were underpants fashioned out of thinner material that seemed to stretch to fit everyone. Everything was in a pale blue, and she thought the apparel made all the women—the concubines—appear remarkably similar, despite their difference in coloring, shapes and sizes. It was vaguely disquieting, and she hoped it didn’t mean they weren’t allowed to be their individual selves.

  “You still okay with all of this?” Belinda asked the question, but Shirley was right beside her, looking the same query with her eyes.

  “Mostly.”

  “There’s nothing for me on Earth,” Belinda confided. “I heard you talking with Shirley last night. My dad went off to find work and never came back, and I wasn’t able to earn enough to keep everything going. I figured I was going to have to whore myself out anyhow. It’s not like I don’t know what it’s about.”

  “It’s not whoring,” Shirley cut in. “It’s not. My mother would die if she thought I was a prostitute.”

  “It’s whoring.” Belinda put it out there.

  “Maybe on Earth,” Celeste said. “But unless they’re lying to us, we’re going to be sort of like wives there. Maybe even better than wives, at least compared to how it was back home for lots of women. And monogamy will be the rule. Besides, we have the right to refuse the guy who chooses us if it doesn’t feel right. And if we aren’t treated well, we can appeal, and be matched with someone else.” Except we can’t go home.