She wanted to tell him everything but still could not find her voice. Soon, she would confess all her secrets. If he was the man she knew he was, none of it would matter. He’d come with her to Rhemna. Together, they would fashion a life for themselves out of the frozen wasteland.
After a time, Sterlave strode toward the wall opposite the carved throne. The doorway shimmered as they passed through. On the other side, they found a passageway, not much taller than Sterlave’s height. Following along, she could tell he became weaker by the step, but he wouldn’t put her down. Frustrated, she reached out her arm. A doorway shimmered. Ducking within, they found neatly ordered stacks of cloth, bottles, and wooden containers. Sterlave didn’t hesitate to kick the softest cloth into the center of the room. Once he’d padded the stone floor, he laid her down.
Turning away, he checked through the items. Hefting a large glass container, he worked the covering off, sniffed, blinked rapidly, and then set it aside. From her position on the floor, she caught a whiff of something pungent with alcohol. He repeated this with several of the containers. Finally, he found one that passed his test. Using the lid, he poured pale pink liquid into it, sipped, and then helped her hold her head up so she could drink.
“It’s some kind of wine. It will have to do until I can find water.”
She drank greedily The taste was sweet, not unlike the wild berries that grew along the shores of the Valry Sea.
“Not too much.” He pulled the makeshift cup back.
She would have argued, but she was exhausted.
Dipping some cloth into the container with the pungent smell, he dabbed it gently to the wounds on either side of her chest. The creature had penetrated straight through from her front to her back, right below her shoulders. Possibly the only reason she didn’t bleed to death was he’d heated his flesh, burning the inside and the outer edges of the wounds. Still, the liquid burned and she did her best not to flinch.
When Sterlave wavered, trying to hold his balance above her, she pulled on every bit of remaining strength she had to sit upright. “Lie down.” A push was all it took. She gathered the clean cloth, dipped it in the strong-smelling drink, and then dabbed it to his gruesome wounds. From shoulder to waist, the creature tore gashes along his chest that were knuckle deep. Part of it was burnt, but part of it was still raw and bleeding. How had he been able to not only pick her up but also carry her?
“I thought he was going to kill you.” Sterlave reached up, cupping her chin.
She kissed his hand and placed it back by his side. “He would have if not for you.” Discreetly, she left out the part where Loban had tried to get her to call for Sterlave by flicking his nasty fingers against the soles of her feet. “Rest now.”
“How will we get home?”
“I don’t know.” The portal would only open with the device, and that was on Diola. Once Ambo closed the doorway, they had no way to return, not along that path anyway. She glanced again at the contents of the room. She wondered if these goods were in storage for use or for trade. “First of all, we must find out where we are.”
When she rose, he grasped the skirt of her dress, and demanded, “Where do you think you’re going?”
Even injured and sprawled on the floor, he still commanded a certain level of authority. Taking pity on him, she knelt down. “We have to find out where we are if we are to escape.”
He frowned. “I know where we are. We’re on Helton’s planet. The one your mother gave him.” Kasmiri felt her eyebrows climb. Before she could say anything, he continued, “I know Helton is your father. I don’t care. Maybe, rather than going back, we can stay here.”
Touched by his easy acceptance, and the fact that he would willingly give up everything he knew to be with her, she brushed a kiss to his forehead. “I would like nothing better than to stay here with you, but I have to go back. I have to face the consequences of my mother’s actions.” Always she’d wanted to run from her duty, but now she knew she had one last obligation to perform.
“You are very brave.”
His praise meant the world to her. “I was a coward to lie, to try to run away from the truth.” She sighed. “I think I can even understand what my mother did and why she turned to another man.” With duty hanging over her head, her mother turned to strong arms for solace, arms that embraced only her. Kasmiri believed Helton had been faithful to her mother. Enraptured by her beauty and ensnared by her charm, he still could not overcome his pride and submit himself to her as second-best consort. Kasmiri could even understand that now too. She wouldn’t want to be second best either.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hurt shown deep in his eyes.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t want me.” She touched his cheek as if to memorize every feature of his face. “I have to go back, but you don’t. When I confess the truth of my birth, they will offer me but two choices—the stone or exile. If you are with me, my choice will become your choice.”
A frown crinkled the skin of his brow. “Those are not the only choices, Kasmiri.”
“I am a pharadean, worthless as a leader to my people. The other houses will not abide my rule, not when they have their own legitimate daughters to thrust onto the throne.”
His hand gripped hers tightly. “Don’t call yourself worthless again. I won’t tolerate such nonsense from others, and certainly not from you.”
Then she understood Ambo had told him, probably in an effort to get him to turn away from rescuing her. That Ambo’s denigrating comments hadn’t swayed Sterlave said more to her than words ever could. And Ambo, that coward, when she did return to Diola, she would have to do something about the meddling drunkard before she was stripped of her power.
“Lie with me for a while. The world will not disappear on us.” Sterlave pulled her down to snuggle in his arms. His wound had stopped bleeding, and for now, they were safe. What did it matter if they rested for a moment? She felt as if she hadn’t slept in days and the fabrics were so soft, and Sterlave so solid and warm…
When she woke, she had no idea how much time had passed. The world hadn’t disappeared, but it certainly had changed.
“Sterlave.” She nudged him gently. “You must wake up now, we have guests.” Honestly, she didn’t know what to make of the tall, thin, and extremely pale people surrounding them. Clad in odd fabrics that shimmered strange colors, Kasmiri looked for some sign as to which was the leader. Having dealt with numerous barsitas, she used her learned skills in ferreting out their chief. They were all roughly the same height, with similar loose and flowing hairstyles. All of them had the same beautiful silver-white hair. The garments they wore hid their sexes, as did their androgynous faces. Silver eyes blinked slowly, revealing vertical-shaped pupils that widened to the sides. No jewelry, weapons, or decorations offered any show of distinction. How could she find the leader when they all looked the same?
Sterlave dreamily cupped her breast. “Later we’ll rise, I want to touch you first.”
Aroused and embarrassed, Kasmiri took his hand from her breast and gave it a little pinch. “You shouldn’t be so familiar before our new friends.”
He growled and rolled over, blinking rapidly when he saw the strange people surrounding them. Automatically, he reached for his belt, but he’d left his sword buried in Loban. Besides, she didn’t think they needed protection because the people seemed harmless.
When she rose up, they took a small step back on their bare little feet. Smoothing down her hopelessly ruined dress and tucking back her disheveled hair, she bowed to them, and said, “I am Kasmiri, Empress of Diola, daughter of the Crimson House.”
Unimpressed by her title, they simply continued to stare at her with their slow-blinking eyes.
“Who commands you?”
More blank stares.
“I don’t think they understand you.” Sterlave rose, and this time they moved forward with a collective indrawn breath.
Out the side of her mouth, she said, “They seem to like you.”
“Let’s hope it’s like and not hunger.” Her frown prompted him to add, “For all we know that’s how they look at food. And they do seem fascinated by the wounds on my chest.”
One pointed to the gash, turned to another, who also pointed, then they both lowered their arms. They exchanged no words, but Kasmiri was certain they’d spoken.
Long ago, when she was very young, she remembered a culture of people who did not speak. They thought their words to one another. Kasmiri considered their mouths. Knife slits in their faces with hardly any lips at all probably meant her assessment was correct.
“I don’t think they speak, not as we do.”
When the group of them turned to the doorway, Kasmiri and Sterlave followed behind. Her feet throbbed painfully with each step from Loban’s brutal treatment, but she gritted her teeth and ignored the feeling of walking on shards of glass.
Sterlave noticed anyway. “Let me carry you.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, you’re hurt. Let me help you.”
Their argument caused the group to stop and turn.
Reluctantly, she allowed Sterlave to scoop her up into his arms. Despite his wounds, he lifted her easily. When the pale people saw her feet, they again stepped forward with great interest, except this time they didn’t point. After a moment, they turned and walked off without a word.
As they continued down the hall, Kasmiri wondered what interested them so. Was it the sight of raw flesh or the color of their blood? Who knew what intrigued an alien culture. From the back, she noticed some had much longer hair, though all had locks to at least their shoulders. One had hair down to the back of his or her knees. As she watched, the strands swayed back and forth, lulling her.
After a time, they came upon another shimmering doorway. When Sterlave stepped through, Kasmiri almost screamed in shock. Down to the very last detail, someone had reproduced her mother’s rooms. Almost everything was blinding white with only touches of crimson, black, and silver. Kasmiri expected her mother to emerge from the bathing unit, whole, unhurt, ready to forgive her for everything. When nothing of the sort happened, Kasmiri felt her mother’s loss all over again.
Sterlave placed her on the bed, where she sank into plush comfort. When he tried to move away, one of the pale people pointed and he fell onto his back. The creature hadn’t struck him physically, but Sterlave fell nonetheless.
One of them climbed onto the bed and straddled Sterlave’s hips.
Kindly, he lifted his hands, and said, “I’m really not certain where this is going, but I’m bonded to her.” He pointed at Kasmiri. “I don’t think she’d like—” He stopped talking suddenly and his arms fell back, palms up, as if he surrendered.
When the person lifted slender arms, Kasmiri realized she was female. Tiny breasts appeared as the fabric pressed against her body. Jealousy surged along Kasmiri like fire. She wasn’t about to lie here and watch some lusty barsitas take advantage of her bondmate!
As if she heard the thought, the woman turned her head in Kasmiri’s direction. No expression showed on her smooth face, but her eyes widened, probing into Kasmiri with subtle intent. Tendrils brushed along Kasmiri’s mind, examining her thoughts, prying into her most private memories. Satisfied, the woman nodded, then turned back to Sterlave.
Pressing her hands into his chest, she sat perfectly still atop his hips with her eyes closed. Sterlave blinked rapidly, his hands jerking spasmodically as the woman touched her hands from one end of his wounds to the other. Ever so slowly, the skin knitted together until his chest was smooth.
Silver eyes swung her direction and Kasmiri fought the urge to back away. The woman didn’t have any harmful intent, but she was so peculiar. Without moving off her perch, she cupped Kasmiri’s feet. Alternate flashes of hot and cold prickled her skin, tickling her. Kasmiri tried desperately not to laugh, but she did anyway. When she finished with her feet, the woman slid off Sterlave and worked her way up to sit upon Kasmiri’s hips. Placing her hands on either side of her damaged shoulders, she healed her with the same soothing sensation.
Unable to thank her conventionally, Kasmiri simply clasped her hand and squeezed, thinking hard about gratitude. Expressionless eyes considered their joined hands; then she moved away. Another stepped forward with a tray laden with food native to Diola. She and Sterlave ate without comment while the group stood and watched. When they finished, they removed the tray and stood patiently.
“What are they waiting for?” Sterlave asked.
Kasmiri shrugged.
Without a sound, they turned and quickly filed out of the room. Before they could discuss the matter, a contingent of palace guards burst in. Too stunned to struggle, they quickly bound them both. Kasmiri hoped the silver-haired people wouldn’t get in trouble for helping them.
Smugly, Ambo strode forward, glared right into her eyes, and said, “Your reign is over.”
27
Sterlave stood at one end of the advisors’ room. Hundreds of people surrounded him, but he felt alone. Unnaturally quiet, they watched and waited for Ambo to begin the inquisition. Once he realized that Sterlave had killed Loban, Ambo returned to his previous lifestyle. Whatever weight he’d lost he rapidly gained back, and then some, all within the few days he’d let Sterlave languish in holding.
Sterlave hadn’t minded the austere conditions as the cold stone floor, exposed basin, and raw food were similar to his training room cell, but he worried about Kasmiri. She was not used to such harsh surroundings. If he could, he would give her what little he had, but even suggesting it caused the guards to laugh. He wanted to rail at them, that they couldn’t hold him when he’d committed no crime, but he held his tongue. Soon, the time would come for him to speak. When that time came, he would be ready. The only thing he’d clung to was the fact they hadn’t exiled or killed Kasmiri. He knew this from eavesdropping on the guards. As he stood, unshackled, but with eight guards at his back, waiting for the show to begin, all he could think of was Kasmiri.
When four guards ushered her in, his eyes ate her up. She’d never appeared more stunning. Head high, proud chin thrust forward, she’d turned the destroyed dress into a gown fit for an empress. Apparently, nothing they did could break her spirit. No tears of self-pity marred her beautiful face. A determined brightness sparkled there, warming him clear through to his bones. No matter what happened today, she would not be cowed.
Kasmiri caught his gaze and winked.
His pride soared higher than he thought possible. She hadn’t lost her saucy authority, her lush imagination, or her utter disregard for those who sought to bring her low. In that moment, he knew that he loved her. She fascinated him anew and probably would do so for the rest of their life together. And he would do anything to ensure they would have a very long time together.
Ambo must have seen her display, for he clapped his hands, calling the gathering to order. As he pontificated about her misdeeds, many of which she hadn’t committed, Kasmiri appeared to be listening politely. When Ambo reached the point where he revealed she was not the product of an official consort, gasps of outrage rose from the crowd.
Kasmiri yawned.
Sterlave laughed.
Ambo swiveled his head, sparing him a blistering glare before he continued. Repeatedly, Ambo invoked the prophecy, denigrating Kasmiri for violating the rites and rituals as set forth by the ancients. At the appropriate moment, Ambo dramatically pointed his finger at Helton.
Proudly, Helton rose, gaining Sterlave’s respect. Helton had made horrible mistakes, but he attempted to atone for them by standing up for his daughter. Finally, she’d found someone else who would not abandon her at the first sign of trouble. Sterlave surmised she was touched as well, for she flashed Helton an accepting smile and a brief nod. Sterlave doubted he’d ever be able to fully forgive Helton, but if Kasmiri could, he would find a way to make peace with him.
Ambo’s diatribe went on endlessly. Even the crowd, which had been so vested
in hearing each wicked crime, now grew bored with his outrageous claims. Sterlave sensed they were impatient for punishment.
“I relinquish my crown.” Kasmiri’s voice rang clearly in the crowded room. All eyes turned her way. “I renounce my title.” When she lifted her hand to the fastener of her dress, murmurs rippled through the group.
Without seduction or modesty, Kasmiri peeled her clothing away until she stood before the entire assembly nude. The pale creatures from Helton’s world had repaired all the damage inflicted by Loban, so none of the people knew what she had suffered to protect them. Men and women examined her perfection with critical eyes. When the women couldn’t find a flaw, they grimaced. When the men couldn’t, they smiled. Keeping her gaze fixed to Sterlave’s, she walked toward him with smooth, rolling grace. So shocked were her guards that they made no effort to stop her. Cool air peaked her nipples and washed small bumps along her flesh.
Mesmerized, Sterlave had to remind himself to breathe. Never had he seen her looking so exquisite. In response, his cock stirred, pressing against the front of his filthy trousers. A sharp sudden longing hardened his body and watered his mouth.
Once she reached him, she said, “I come to you with nothing.”
When she tried to kneel before him, he grasped her upper arms, pulling her against his chest. “You will not kneel before me. As my bondmate, you will stand beside me.” The last thing he’d ever wanted was her kneeling before him. At first, he didn’t understand why she had stripped down, but then he did. She gave up everything from her previous life, from her crown to her clothing. By doing so, she showed him that she would willingly give up anything to be with him. Like in the bonding ceremony where he had to kneel naked before her, she now tried to do the same for him. Still, he didn’t need such a show of submission.
Peering down, her wild, wicked eyes captured his attention, ensnaring him. She didn’t need anything extraneous to possess his mind, body, and soul.
Dark Harvest Page 29
