Diltan listened to the sound of the nearby fire crackling in the pit. He let it fill his ears, concentrating on that and not remembered snatches of conversation from earlier that day. He put the troubling events out of his mind, letting himself sink into the safety and security of home. Here, no one could trouble him. He could pretend the Empire was as strong as ever, that no rebellions waited in the wings, that nothing bad could ever happen.
Diltan was aware that Rolat and Wal spoke to each other, but he kept them in the background. He let his worries quiet until he felt a glass press into his hand, which lay curled on one thigh. Only then did the Dramok open his eyes to consider the small glass of bohut Wal had given him.
He stared at it for a few minutes, gazing into the liquor’s reddish-brown depths. When he raised it to his lips, he downed the smoky-sweet drink in one gulp.
Fire traced down Diltan’s throat and he winced. It brought him back to the here and now. He laid his head back on Rolat’s knee and looked up at his clanmates. Wal had curled at the Nobek’s side again. Both men watched him with affectionate concern.
“Someone had a rough day,” Rolat observed.
“And then some,” Diltan said.
Wal stood again, took Diltan’s glass, and refilled it from the bottle now sitting on the low table before them. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
I can’t. If Yuder and Tidro go on trial, you’ll likely hear the case.
Even if Diltan could have discussed Zarl’s records and how he’d mishandled their information, he didn’t have the heart for it. He told Wal, “By the ancestors, no. I fucked up, and I can’t even begin to comprehend the repercussions of it.”
Diltan took another swig of bohut, but he didn’t drain the glass this time. The anxieties of the day were back on him. How bad is it going to be? It’s going to shake the Empire but will it be enough to make the very foundations crack?
In a careful tone, Wal said, “If you can’t talk about your work, would you appreciate distraction?”
“Immensely.”
Rolat grinned at him. “Good. Let’s discuss Tasha and Cissy.”
Diltan groaned. “Speaking of fuck ups I’ve committed. Damn it, I could have handled this morning better.”
“Perhaps. At any rate, Wal and I have agreed we’d like to switch our suit from one to the other.”
Diltan’s head began to pound. His headache was making a return. “You wish to pursue Cecilia? Not chalk last night up to drinking and mere physical attraction?”
Wal shook his head. “She’s more to our liking than Natasha. Tasha is sweet, but Cissy is...” He paused and then laughed loudly. “...astounding.”
Diltan finished his second drink. “She’s blunt and rude. She possesses little decorum. In short, the second Ms. Salter is all the things I would not wish in a Matara.”
“All the things you thought you didn’t wish in a Matara,” Rolat countered. “Yet, you are drawn to her. Don’t deny it, my Dramok. She fascinates you every bit as much as she entrances us.”
Diltan scowled at him before glancing at the bottle on the table wistfully. He knew better than to drink just to soothe his nerves, but the bohut was damned tempting. Still eyeing it, he said, “The last thing I need right now is a complicated dating situation, especially when it comes to those who are connected to the Imperial Clan.”
Wal’s light voice held an undercurrent of suspicion. “Speaking of which, don’t you think you should share the issue Cissy mentioned you having with Imperial Sister Lindsey?”
Pain stabbed Diltan’s temples. Fuck. He did not want to have this conversation. However, today was determined to be chock full of shit.
He griped, knowing it would do him no good. “Damn it. If you knew the day I had, you’d give me a break.”
“Let’s compromise,” Rolat offered. “I will pour you another drink to help loosen your tongue and settle your nerves. Then you will tell us what happened.”
He took Diltan’s glass and reached to pour the last of the bohut into it. As he did so, Diltan rose to his feet and took a step away. It would not do to be within easy grabbing distance of his Nobek in the next few minutes.
He told his companions, “Being the Dramok of a clan is nothing like what I expected it to be. Clanmates who refuse to obey orders, who order me around to boot, and insist on enticing the wrong Matara to join us. As Cissy might say, the whole package sucks lemons.”
Rolat smirked and offered Diltan his drink. “Your biggest problem is not us. It’s your ambition, my Dramok. You reach high, so you will inevitably fall from time to time.”
Diltan took his glass from the Nobek and retreated a couple of steps away. No, if he was going to confess his wrongdoings with Lindsey, he was not going to be within arm’s length of Rolat. Just being in the same room was too close for comfort.
Steeling himself for the censure of his Imdiko and Nobek, Diltan told them, “I reach too high, on occasion.”
“Can one do that?” Wal mused. “I think a man should go for whatever his dreams are, however impossible they may seem.”
“Including another clan’s Matara?”
“Well, I can’t countenance that.”
Diltan sighed. “Then you’ll be very disappointed in me.”
The Imdiko’s eyes widened. “Oh Diltan. No.”
Rolat glared, his anger already on the rise. “Not with Imperial Sister Lindsey. Diltan, I swear I will beat you black and blue if you laid a hand on her.”
Diltan held one hand and his glass up in surrender. “I promise I never touched her. I did try to get her to de-clan her mates in our favor, however.”
Rolat made a sound of disgust as Wal stared at him in horror. “My Dramok, how could you?”
Diltan slumped. Since it didn’t look as if Rolat was going to launch himself at him to administer sound punishment yet, he quaffed his third drink and set the glass down on the table. Once he recovered from the river of liquid fire burning its way down into his guts, he said, “Young Clan Bacoj had no rank, certainly not enough to warrant their clanning the sister of Empress Jessica.”
“Says you,” snarled Rolat. “That is absolutely inexcusable, Diltan. Even you shouldn’t be able to sink that low with your ambitions.”
Wal shook his head, looking more sad than angry. “I am so disappointed in you, Diltan.”
Somehow the letdown on his Imdiko’s face was worse than Rolat’s anger. It made Diltan feel sick to his stomach.
In a small voice, he said, “You can’t possibly be as disappointed in me as I am with myself. It was an awful mistake I made, a completely cracked-skull move. Maybe my worst.”
Or second worst, he privately countered, thinking of the coming trouble over Zarl’s records.
“One of many horrific mistakes,” he amended. “I lost all honor when I did that.”
Rolat’s initial fury ebbed. “Is that why you financed the start of their businesses? I’d like to think the guilt made a better man of you.”
“I’m glad to say it was only a small part of why I invested in Bacoj, Vax, and Japohn’s futures.” Diltan had to smile a little, knowing how he’d given deserving men a chance to realize their dreams, even though the road leading to that had been rough. “Their proposals had real merit, as is evident from the success all three men have enjoyed.”
“You recovered your investments within two years, didn’t you?” Wal said. “And then you told them to keep the rest of their profits for themselves, if I remember correctly. No interest charged, no residual percentages taken. I thought that was generous of you.”
“I didn’t feel good about riding on their success after what I’d done,” Diltan admitted. “Unlike me, they are good, decent men. They deserve happiness with their Matara.”
“The Imperial Sister kept quiet about the matter. How kind of her.” Rolat’s tone oozed sarcasm. “I wish she would have had her sister announce what you did on the council floor in front of all of Kalquor.”
Diltan sighed. He nee
ded to clear his conscience about the matter once and for all. That meant telling them the most humiliating part of the story.
“She wasn’t the only one who kept my shameful actions a secret. The mothers of Clan Bacoj found out about my proposal to Matara Lindsey. They shamed me for being such an ass. Giving Clan Bacoj my financial support was the price for their silence on the matter.”
“A bargain for you,” Rolat snorted derisively.
“I know I got away cheaply on that account. However, they verbally flayed my hide, and I still cringe to think of it. One of your beatings cannot come close to the tongue lashing they laid on me. I have never felt so small and worthless as I did that day.”
Diltan lowered his gaze, utterly humiliated. Being reproached like a naughty youngling by the Mataras had been the most embarrassing moment of his life. He would have taken a thousand punches from Rolat before enduring the scorn of the three mothers.
Wal huffed. “If I didn’t know that under these occasional bursts of arrogance lies a very good man, I’d whip you soundly myself.”
“I might still do so,” Rolat said. “Damn it, Diltan. What were you thinking?”
“About myself, of course. About my standing, about proving my rank. That’s what usually gets me into trouble, isn’t it?”
The silence stretched long and heavy. Diltan could feel their eyes on him, judging and finding him pathetic. Which he was. Along with vile, repugnant, horrible...
Wal’s chuckles broke into Diltan’s thoughts. The Dramok looked at his laughing Imdiko with surprise.
Wal’s merriment increased as their gazes met. “I would give anything for a vid recording of those men’s mothers letting you have it. To see proud Councilman Diltan chastised by a group of angry mommies! Tell me you looked as miserable as you do right now.”
Rolat joined him in the hilarity. “That must have been quite the sight. I think we should implement prisoners’ mothers’ wrath in the penal system. I can think of no worse punishment than having to listen to a mother’s rant.”
The two men laughed together as Diltan stood there and took it. He didn’t like being the butt of the joke, but he knew he deserved it. Nevertheless, his face burned furiously.
After a few minutes of being doubled over at the thought of Diltan being told off by elder Mataras, Rolat gasped, “My Dramok, life with you is never boring.”
“I’m glad to keep you entertained,” Diltan said in a flat voice. “Just beat my ass and let me off the hook.”
“Oh no.” Rolat’s grin turned evil. “Beating you would be far too easy. I have a better idea, at least a little something to start with.”
The Dramok felt a twinge of unease. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
“Now that we know how thoroughly you fucked things up with the Imperial Sister, let’s move on to someone else’s sister. Except this time, you’re going to do things in an ethical matter.”
Diltan saw where he was going and groaned. “Rolat, no.”
“Yes. You are going to court the woman Wal and I want to entice back into our bed. I’m not saying we have to clan Cissy, but we will make every effort to see if she is the woman for us.”
Diltan thought about opening another bottle of bohut. “She’s so bawdy and unreserved.” And she hates me.
Wal’s grin was as devilish as Rolat’s. “Which we like. You know, I think courting Cissy would be a valid form of punishment for what Diltan did to Matara Lindsey. My Nobek, you are without a doubt one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever known.”
“Thank you, Wal. Though I think courting Cissy will be only a start for Diltan’s punishment. I’ll have to think on further repercussions for the serious wrong he’s done.” Rolat skewered Diltan with his demanding stare. “No just going through the motions on this either, Diltan. I want to see you chase after Cissy with all the fervor of a man in love.”
“If she’ll even see us,” the Dramok pointed out. “If you recall, she didn’t seem so keen on us this morning.”
Wal’s smile faded, replaced by his stern ‘judge look’, as Diltan thought of it. “You will fix it so she changes her mind,” he commanded.
Diltan scowled. Yet he remembered how warm it had made him feel on the inside when he’d woken to Cissy’s face first thing this morning. It had been the only moment of happiness he’d felt all day. Sinking into her warmth last night after weeks of thinking about her had been an unparalleled joy.
Who was he kidding? After dealing out hard truths all day, he had to face his own uncomfortable slice of reality. He was every bit as intrigued by Cissy as his clanmates. She irritated him, but she excited him as well.
Perhaps the only reason I find her infuriating is because she’s someone I don’t think I should want, and yet she still stirs me so damned much.
It was an interesting notion. However, Diltan was not willing to own up to the thrill of pursuing the rebellious little Earther to his clanmates. They might decide on some other awful form of punishment for his attempted indiscretions with Matara Lindsey.
Rolat stood. “You look presentable enough. Since you’ve had three glasses of bohut, I’ll pilot the shuttle.”
Diltan started. “What, you want to go talk to her now?”
“Absolutely. Move or I’ll carry you.”
Diltan’s heart rate sped up at the thought of seeing Cissy. However, for Rolat and Wal’s benefit, he put on a long-suffering expression and said, “Won’t this awful day ever end?”
* * * *
Cissy was poking around in her cooling unit for something to snack on when Tasha burst into her apartment. “Cissy, you have to come over to my place now.”
Cissy stared at her flushed twin. “Why? What’s going on?”
“No time. Come on!”
With no further explanation, Tasha rushed through the door that led to her quarters. Wondering what all the excitement was about, Cissy hurried after her.
She stopped short to see Clan Diltan assembled in Tasha’s greeting room. As one, the men bowed to her. When they straightened, Wal and Rolat looked to Diltan, who stood between them. He scowled at them in turn before giving Cissy his attention.
With a stiff smile on his stupidly handsome face, Diltan said, “Good evening, Matara Cissy. I am glad to see you again.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Sure you are. We parted on such lovely terms this morning. What is this all about?”
Beaming Tasha tugged her down to one of the seating cushions surrounding the low table where they’d had coffee this morning. Tasha waved the men to the other cushions. “Please sit down, gentlemen.” She said to Cissy, “I told them you confessed to what happened last night and that I’m all right with it.”
Cissy snorted. “Did you also tell them you plotted for what happened last night to happen?”
As they settled down to sit cross-legged across from the sisters, Rolat and Wal looked amused. Diltan was obviously startled and banged his knee against the table.
“Careful!” Tasha called.
Cissy silently thanked the table.
Wal’s devastating smile made her heart thump, but it was aimed at her sister. “So you wanted us to end up with Cissy. Is that why we were treated to so many stories about your sister, Matara Tasha?”
Tasha blushed. “Sorry. I know I wasn’t subtle. However, I could tell we weren’t working out so well and she obviously had a thing for you.”
Diltan’s brow rose at that tidbit. Cissy hated the smirk that tried to turn the corners of his mouth up. “Is that so?”
Cissy gave him her most unimpressed look. “Tasha overstates the issue. I like Rolat and Wal. You, on the other hand—”
Tasha pinched her and told Diltan, “She never shuts up about you, even though much of her incessant ramblings have to do with what an awful person she says you are.”
Rolat winked at Cissy. “My Dramok does have his moments.”
Diltan rolled his eyes.
Tasha kept talking as if no one else had spoken. “
As Shakespeare said, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
Cissy rubbed her thigh where Tasha had pinched her. “As some other wiser person said, what I wouldn’t give to be an only child.”
Tasha ignored her. “I like your clan, Dramok Diltan. I think you are wonderful men with much to offer the right woman. However, I don’t think I’m the one you should be offering it to. That particular honor, if you can stand her, belongs to Cissy.”
The three men bowed their heads to Tasha. Diltan said, “Matara, it was indeed a privilege to be considered by you, and we thank you for the honor. However, my clanmates have agreed that they too are not convinced we would make good clanmates for you.”
Rolat made a low sound in his throat.
Diltan sighed. “I also agree. We hereby rescind our interest in you for our Matara.”
He turned purple eyes to regard Cissy. That hint of a knowing smirk returned, and she bristled.
Oh, so you think I’m a sure thing, do you? Well, you just go ahead and ask if you can date me. If you dare, I’m going to turn you down flat, you pompous ass. You are not the Dramok for me. You piss me off, and no number of amazing kisses or great nights in bed are going to make up for that.
Wal nudged Diltan. The Dramok shot him a glare before drawing himself up. “Matara Cecilia, as tempestuous as our meetings have been thus far, they have also been ... interesting.”
Cissy made an ugly sound.
Diltan didn’t react. “Will you consider my clan’s offer to explore compatibility for possible clanship?”
Cissy opened her mouth. Hell no, not in a million years, not if you were the last man on Kalquor. “Thank you, Dramok Diltan. I accept.” Her teeth snapped shut, making a loud clicking sound. She moaned, “Oh crap, what did I just do?”
Wal snickered. “Funny. I once said that myself when I gave in to joining his clan.”
“Not quite,” Rolat grinned. “You used more colorful language.” He turned and bowed his head to Cissy. “Don’t worry, Matara. Wal and I will do all we can to make up for our Dramok.”
Tasha’s smile was blinding. “Yep, these are the men for you, sister of mine.” She giggled.
Alien Indiscretions Page 20
