‘As if my first born will not love you best,’ Éorik’s said.
Teeth biting shut, Beowyn hooked the male around his nape. He dragged him down, flattened him on his back then sat on him. ‘Of course.’ He sniffed. ‘I am a gentle spirit. Cubs sense this and strive to be near me.’
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Sìne collapse onto her rump and press a trembling hand to her breast. She’d feared he’d pounce. How adorable.
You warned friends before an attack, not enemies.
Gaze inspecting their faces, coming to the realisation she’d overreacted, she shoved at his middle.
Snorting at her pinched expression, he slid off Éorik’s torso to land sprawled on his other side. The grass pricked his flesh, and its earthy sent filled his lungs.
Sunshine hot on his face, the wind sighing in his ears, a remnant of the fruit juice staining his lips gave him a burst of tartness, so he licked his lips.
She crawled over them. ‘You scared me.’ A scowl darkened her exotic, alien features. ‘You suck.’
Beowyn grinned.
Eyes smiling, Éorik stabilised Sìne on his midriff as she wobbled. ‘Owyn would never harm me. Make me hurt, yes, but harm?’ He shook his head.
‘I’ll harm you both if you frighten me like that again.’
Laughing, Beowyn curled up to claim her mouth. She resisted, at first, then draped her arms over his shoulders, sinking into him. A heavy palm kneaded the small of his back. He released his One. Éorik pulled her down to taste her mouth, and Beowyn bent to press a kiss to the graceful arch of her back. He hated to leave them. If he tarried things would progress beyond return. ‘You will enjoy yourself.’ Her plans to experience the delights of Grand Atoll pleased him. He rubbed her moist, reddened lips when she turned to gaze at him in confusion. ‘I must attend my aide.’
She twisted to kiss his roughened palm. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘And I you.’ He gripped Éorik’s horn and gave it a lusty tug. ‘Will you miss me?’ A gusty sigh and narrowed eyes sent him laughing back to the palace.
Chapter 30
Spans after his lunch with his One and Commander, Beowyn’s good humour was spent. His temples ached. ‘I am done. No more.’ He shut down the holoscreens. ‘My brain is melting.’
Glindi’s many eyes blinked. Her black skin glistened from a recent dousing in the brackish, tepid waters surrounding Royal Atoll her amphibious kind preferred. ‘Bax Prime wishes your allegiance on the matter of the slave trading season.’
‘Our support is with Ambassador Lumen.’
‘The unpopular choice? Her other supporters are not as influential as you. She only has a select number of Krael hives, Yoni sways and Zozon pods willing to speak out.’ Her voice quivered on the name of her estranged species.
‘My answer is unchanged.’
‘Sublime Priest requests aide. Raids on Zoa continue unimpeded in many deeps and shallows.’
Beowyn pressed the heel of his palm to his brow ridge. ‘Sending further reinforcements,’ the seventh time in an aeon they requested such from him, ‘will result in my Paladins occupying over two-thirds of the planet’s landmass.’ He didn’t wish to take the Zozon home world by force, but they made it hard to resist the temptation.
‘Sublime Priest offers as much cold-ore as you can mine.’
‘Our stocks of the preservative are sufficient.’ He itched his shoulder spur. ‘Glindi this cannot continue. I offered the Sublime Priest sanctuary if he submits to me and declares Zoa Verakan territory. Once this is done, my people will no longer look at yours as weak allies but their own to protect.’
‘Independence is all we have left.’ Batrachian feet slapped against the tile, and her bulbous head bobbed on her stout neck. ‘You ask too much.’
‘I do not seek a slave race. Your people will be free to swim the waters and walk the lands unchecked.’
‘While subject to violent laws we do not agree with.’
Beowyn brought his fists to his hips. ‘I am so despised?’ He had saved Glindi from a notoriously fiendish Vudwani slaver that liked to collect females, take them unwillingly then murder them, selling the despicable vids for credits.
Éorik had relished ending the deviant male’s life once they’d caught up to him. He’d hid on a desolate moon base in the shadow of an ancient city left abandoned by a near-extinct species that had once ruled most of the Southern spiral clusters.
Beowyn had tried to return the female Zozon he’d found cowering in a bundle of dirty rags to her people, but Glendi was shunned by her pod for being unclean, tainted by her captor. He’d discovered her talents lay in organisation and offered her a place as his aide. She’d been a citizen of Vayhalun ever since. It soon became clear, however, though he refused to acknowledge her as of his pod, the Sublime Priest had no problems using his youngest daughter to negotiate for him when it suited his needs.
‘I know you to be kind and tolerant, but Zozon come from aeons of democracy.’ Glindi’s narrow frame wilted. Her conical teeth gnawed her wide, rubbery lips. ‘Great One....’
‘I have made the conditions of my help clear.’ Beowyn cupped the smooth, pore-less flesh on her shoulder. ‘It is up to the Sublime Priest to decide what matters most. The illusion of freedom or protection as my supplicant.’
Verakan society favoured the strong.
Zozites would inhabit the lower rungs, but his people protected their weak. They would be safe from the exploitations of the other species that enslaved them at whim.
The exorbitant cost of sending war aide to Zoa had gone unremarked by the People’s Guard for the first few times Beowyn ordered his Paladins to retaliate against poachers snatching youths from the besieged planet. Once the numbers of Paladins increased, Beowyn had come to an agreement with the Sublime Priest, benevolent ruler of Zoa, to be supplied with cold-ore as payment, a resource that was not expensive, but in demand by hot planets like Vayhalun and Rök. Costs now outweighed gains. The People’s Guard pushed back on the matter, citing the loss of life to protect a species that refused to lift a hand to protect themselves a losing battle. Beowyn was able to press them to stop riling the populace but dismissing the wishes of his politicians was not something he did without good reason. He’d offered the Sublime Priest a chance to officially become part of his domain yet the situation continued to deteriorate, the quality of life for a Zozite appalling, but Beowyn had done what he could from both a military and political standpoint.
People had to help themselves before others could.
Glindi gurgled. ‘Before you disappear, are rumours of Ryki’s expulsion exaggerated?’
Anger stirred as he pushed onto his feet. ‘No.’ He pulled out his SonCom to see if he could rejoin his One. It was late and likely she’d already sought their bed, but he wanted to be certain.
Stylus clacked against tablet. ‘With this in mind are you accepting courtesans into your harem? You received five exclusive requests from the High Commanders’ favourites.’ A croak bulged her throat. ‘Rates they have requested are competitive.’
Beowyn’s fingers froze. He put down the SonCom and switched this attention fully to his aide. ‘Say that again.’
‘You received five requests to join your harem.’
‘High Commander SnowBlade released his favourites from contract?’
‘All his concubines were released upon his return. It caused quite an uproar.’ Glindi’s stylus hovered over her data pad. ‘Well? Shall I send out notifications of your acceptance or arrange a date for you to sample their talents? Will the Great Lady need to be informed so she can offer suggestions?’
‘No more concubines.’ Mind elsewhere, he waved her off. ‘I will not need you until next cycle. I will manage my affairs. Good Parting.’
Craving an outlet for his dour mood, Beowyn headed for the barracks. He found them emptied of those assigned to the day shift. He adjusted his course to the training complex.
There was a fight in action.
Intrigu
ed, Beowyn propped his shoulders against the palisade.
Patrick was better than he recalled.
Perhaps the male had not fought with the intent to cause harm on Earth. He would have if he’d battled then as he did now. There was no prettying of the truth to be done. He was physically inferior, lacked speed and possessed less strength than his Verakan opponent, but his movements were strategic. Each strike summoned focused power to disable whatever target he set his sights on, and his concentration during the contest was absolute.
Unlike the Paladin he fought.
The male grew increasingly slapdash and frustrated. His attention kept slipping to his compatriots, who began the bout favouring him, but were won by the human’s prodigious fighting skill.
On Vayhalun might trumped everything else. They favoured strength, but it was the Verak way to set those of tremendous talent above the rest.
The distraction ended in the Paladin ceding the match. Patrick took him to the ground in a complicated grappling manoeuvre the spectators exclaimed over, eager to learn as they tutored.
The defeated male accepted the loss with dignity.
Jumping to his feet, he brushed off sand. He clasped wrists with the dishevelled, stoic victor, and then lifted his arm high.
The squad celebrated his dominance with vociferous praise.
Standing off to the side, Patrick spotted Beowyn. Signalling his intention to approach with a lifted hand, he wended his way through the thinning crowd of Paladins. They clapped his back and offered gentled head knocks in deference to his lack of cranial horns.
Beowyn inclined his head. ‘It gladdens me to see you are settling. I confess I worried when you requested to train with them. I see fretting over my human-kin was for nothing.’
Contrary to what most assumed, Beowyn liked to be proven wrong and had no problem admitting when he was.
It reminded him the world was a changeable, exciting adventure to enjoy rather than try to control. It kept him humble. It kept him from becoming cynical and mean as others of his status had become in the past.
Patrick used the hem of his sweat-stained tunic to wipe grime from his face. The scrubbing left a blackened ring around his ears and tanned neck. ‘Fighting is what I kenned on Earth. It’s how I can best help in this new life of mine. I am my clan’s protector.’
‘They are strong and gifted. You have done well with them.’
‘Best I could. It was no easy when my sister died and when my Da stopped trying to cope. It was especially hard when Sìne moved away with the wee bit. She thought she needed to stand on her own two feet. I respected it, aye, but it was very hard to let her go.’
‘You are a stronger male than I. It would break me to do such a thing.’ Beowyn paused then decided nothing ventured was nothing gained. Patrick’s undivided attention was a boon he’d be a fool to fritter. ‘Tell me more of her.’
‘Och, it’s no my place.’
Beowyn slumped, horn thunking against the wall. ‘I wish to make her happy. She told me of her past, but it is never enough and always after I push.’
‘She’s been hurt.’
‘Leeam.’ He cursed the name.
‘How a sweet lass like Fergie came from that bastard, I’ll never understand.’
‘They are far from him, and that is what matters. Perhaps one day the cub will wish to know of her true sire, but I will do all I can to convince her to forsake him. I will not let either of them be hurt by his neglect again.’
‘Your heart seems like it’s in the right place, so I’ll tell you this. Sìne does no need you to fight the battle of her past. She’s managing that by talking to Lumen and seeing with her own eyes what life has to offer when she can let go of old hurts.’ Patrick tapped his chest. ‘She needs your respect. Last night at dinner, you proved she has it.’
‘I am ashamed my concubine acted as she did. I ask forgiveness for the insult she dealt you.’
‘I paid the girl no mind beyond worry she’d try to hurt Sìne.’ He waved a hand. ‘You’re a powerful male, Wyn, but even you can no control how others feel. That Ryki wanted your love is another reason why my family and I feel you’re a male worth loving, who will do right by Sìne and our wee one.’
Was he a male worth loving?
‘Love.’ Beowyn licked his lips. ‘It is important to humans.’
‘Some believe it’s the most important thing.’
‘It is not just words that must be spoken, but certain actions?’ Like a lusty Verak disbanding a harem he’d spent aeons cultivating. ‘It cannot just be providing or bed sport, but action that supports the saying?’
Patrick studied him then smiled. ‘You have the way of it.’
‘Love is important to you?’
‘Familial love I hold for my clan is, aye.’ Patrick smiled wryly. ‘I don’t think that’s the love you’re speaking of. Romantic love has never gripped me. I never met that special person.’ He rolled his shoulders. ‘Maybe I hadn’t because she was a universe away.’ Patrick and the squadron of Paladins assigned to the human’s training left to extended his initiation to the use of volcykles.
The grounds quieted, and the air where shouts of pain usually rang was almost peaceful, but Beowyn was left a jumbled knot of emotion.
Venomous stepped into his line of sight, into the sandy challenge circle. He beckoned with his upper hands, his lower ones holding bladed weapons.
Beowyn pushed away from the wall and stalked to the weapons stand. He gravitated to swords. ‘Looking for me?’
‘Yesss.’ Motionless, the warrior watched him with obsidian brille Beowyn found beautiful in a harsh, sinister way that would be thrilling in the right mood. But the Rä did not dally outside their matings, and the A’Rä were incapable of lust. ‘I wished to discuss the Horde, but you need to fight.’
‘I need, Dah, what do you call it?’ He unsheathed a blade, found it lacking so set it aside. ‘Clutch?’
‘My Rä’Na calls it fucking.’
‘Titillating.’ Soon he’d use it and see how his One reacted.
‘Human words are strange.’
‘They are a unique species.’ He thought they might be the best he’d come across in all his travels. There was a strength in their fragility compelling beyond reason. ‘I understand why Lumen fights as she does. I am honoured to stand with her. You must know this.’ He paused and continued with reluctance. ‘But you and I both know it is a matter of time before the Earth is taken.’ He selected his sword and gripped the hilt. He twisted his wrist, testing its balance and dubbed it adequate. ‘Are you ready for me?’
Blade met blade.
Verak were known as hardy warriors. It was a point of pride.
However, those who were long-lived or studied their species’ annals understood before the closing of Rök to offworlders, the reclusive Rä came exceptionally close to matching Aztekan might. Esoteric mystic arts is what set the frost barbarians apart from the sand dwellers. Horde dabbled in otherworldly powers while the Rä contented themselves with simpler matters.
Beowyn lost himself to the melody. He focused on the beat of his heart, the staccato drumming of their footwork.
Clashing blades sparked, drowning out their harsh expulsions of breath.
Defence blended with attack in an interpretive dance.
Beowyn was best of his kind, and had Éorik been at his side–with luck–Venomous One would taste defeat.
Alone, he struggled to match the Ra’s ferocity and cunning.
Rather than frustrate him the taxing of his ability served to lance his growing restlessness. In a sweeping blur of limbs too swift to follow, Venomous disarmed him, clipped him across the jaw and double kicked, aiming high and low, a blow to his knee and the other to his chest. Beowyn stumbled. Throwing out an arm, he tightened his core and yanked himself back into balance, arms up, ready to strike and block.
Venomous stood with his head canted back to watch the early rising stars glimmer into view. He had won the bout yet defeat disto
rted the fluid lines of his body. ‘I hate her sadness. It cuts my hearts like a thousand knives.’
Breath coming quick, blood thundering, Beowyn relaxed his stance.
He twitched, thinking to hold the male. Before he’d found his One, he’d teased Venomous many times, hinting at his willingness to play. The warrior would never accept the kindness for the innocent expression it was.
‘I have heard the rumours you spoke of on Zoi Quay. I thought the High Commander was wrong. I needed him to be wrong.’ Venomous hissed, slumping. ‘I believe you now.’ He pressed a hand against his chest. ‘She will think it is her fault. She will blame herself, and she has done so much to protect her birth world.’
‘Partly it is her fault for giving the coordinates to secure peace. Partly it is mine for taking Sìne.’ Never would he take that back. ‘For allowing Hel Bihter to endear himself to my One before I could warn her of his true nature.’ Beowyn gripped the sword hilt then flung it across the grounds. It spun pommel over tip until it pierced the palisade, sunk to its cross-guard. ‘Dah, nothing in life is as simple as that.’ His hand fisted until his claws drew blood in his palm. He bit back a curse and relaxed his fingers, shoving aside his misdirected anger, and funnelling it into the things he could control. ‘The truth is a million different decisions none of us had anything to do with lead us to this point.’ He gripped the male’s shoulder. ‘She will see that in time.’
They contemplated the sky in silence until Venomous stirred. ‘We must leave before they come.’
‘Of course.’
‘It shames me to burden you.’
‘You protect your mate and hatchling. I understand, Venomous One. I would do the same, and you would never judge me for it.’ He released the male’s shoulder after giving it a brisk shaking. ‘Do not forget I claimed a human female as my Queen. I brought this trouble to my door.’
‘I will take your humans with me if you wish? They would be safe until you sent for them. Nothing would touch them.’ His tone grew solemn. ‘I have not forgotten you kept my Rä’Na safe when I did not. I would repay this kindness.’
ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2) Page 37
