by Vi Voxley
"Of course," Eredin said, looking around.
He knew the place. It wasn't far from his villa at the outskirts of Raehall, the capital city of Corolon. It was a nice, secluded place. Perfect for what Joanna seemed to have in mind. Eredin agreed that it was better if she had a moment to get accustomed to being on their world before they showed her the rest.
Two weeks, he told himself. The messenger promised us two weeks. Fourteen days to make sure she doesn't leave.
The warlord didn't voice it out loud. Joanna had been snatched out of a terrible situation and she'd agreed to come with them because of a contract she'd been forced to accept.
There were many things she didn't know and understand yet. Eredin wanted to give her a breather. As for himself, he needed to find out if he even was a Templar. Would he and Rago be permitted to do the honor duel again?
Would they want to?
Eredin couldn't imagine the priests would permit that. Not with Joanna there and that was the one price he wasn't willing to pay.
They began walking to his home, Rago apparently accepting their destination quietly. It was only natural he was as curious about their new fated as Eredin was.
Eredin didn't know yet how he felt about sharing a fated with him. He and Rago both belonged to the main bloodline of their families, with the kings as their leaders.
And they had a Terran bride. So it wasn't impossible to join the two. Just hard. Especially if the Merive in question was Rago.
Seeing that Joanna couldn't leave her hand be, Eredin reached out and pulled her other arm away gently. His touch seemed to catch her off guard, as if she only then realized he was real, of blood and flesh.
He could feel her tremble ever so slightly.
"Don't do that," Eredin warned her. "Until we know what's going on, I suggest you leave it alone."
Joanna looked surprised. It had taken her a moment to pull her hand back from him. Eredin could still feel her incredibly soft skin as if he hadn't let go.
It ignited a hunger within him. He wanted more, so much more. Every inch of that gorgeous, divine body of his fated. To make her whine in pleasure underneath him, arch against his thrusts as he filled her with his seed...
If she got pregnant, that would have been the biggest gift of all. One Eredin had never thought he'd experience, just like having a fated. Soon, he'd have to tell her the truth – of how important babies were to the Haverins. It was only fair she knew.
"Leave it alone?" Joanna repeated. "Could you? It's like... I can't describe it. When it clawed into me, I thought I was going to die. A part of me still does. You said it was a weapon. Who's to say it doesn't need time to trigger?"
"The messenger," Rago answered for him, serious as ever. "If there was any danger to you that could be avoided, he would have told us. I think."
"Comforting," Joanna remarked but Eredin noticed it did serve to calm her a little. "Why do you call him the messenger, by the way? You seem to know who – what – he is."
"He's a higher being," Eredin explained. "We don't know much. They appear as they please and leave just as quickly. Usually their arrival is of great significance. For example, the last time a messenger appeared, it was to bring us the first Terran who is a fated to a Haverin."
"I think I heard about that," Joanna said, shock plain in her voice. "I thought it was a joke. No Terran ship has ever come here."
"The messengers delivered her," Eredin said. "Through space. And time."
"Really," Joanna said pensively, looking ahead as they walked. "That's... something. I don't know why, but it makes me feel a bit better. Could I meet her? What happened? Did she stay?"
"Yes," Rago confirmed. "She's here. I'm not sure, however, if it is that simple to see the queen."
Joanna burst out laughing, only to stop when neither of the warriors joined in.
"I thought you were joking," she said.
"Why?" Eredin asked. "She was brought to the kings. She's been here for twelve years now."
"Gods," Joanna breathed. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I laughed, it's just... hard to believe all of this is real. Are you some kind of princes too?"
It was Eredin's time to chuckle a little, making Joanna give him a mocking glare.
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," Joanna said as they reached the borders of a large complex surrounded by a garden full of tall statues and ivy. "You look so powerful. I thought the Orochi were great fighters and then you showed up and went through them like they weren't even there."
She wasn't entirely incorrect.
"We are a part of the royal family," Rago said as Joanna looked around, a small gasp of surprise leaving her pretty, full pink lips in admiration. "The kings are our distant cousins. I am a member of House Merive, Eredin is a Greole. We have no aspirations for the throne, however. We can't, because –"
He stopped, catching the words that were about to leave his mouth. Much too late. Eredin glared, wishing he could somehow banish Rago to a place where his big mouth couldn't ruin everything.
Joanna stopped, her hand inches from picking a sweet fruit from a tree.
"Because?" she asked. "That sounded important. Does that have something to do with me, with today? Reuben mentioned he didn't come for you at the best of times. What were you doing?"
No turning back now. So much for giving her some time.
"We are Templars," Eredin replied, silencing Rago with a quick, furious look.
Lord Merive had done enough damage already where he was concerned.
"At least we would have been by now," Eredin went on. "Today was the day we were to be inducted into the holy order of our people. A Templar is the defender of the faith, of the gods. The messenger... interrupted that."
Joanna stared, looking a little taken aback.
"And you left because of me?" she asked. "I – thank you. You saved me. You saved my crew. I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble?"
You could say that.
Rago beat him to the response, infuriating Eredin even more.
"It's hard to say," the Merive said. "We don't know what happens to us now. The final duel was important. I don't think it has ever been canceled for anything. This has to be a special occasion. Perhaps the priests will take that into consideration."
Joanna looked positively mortified now.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Will you be able to do it again? Still become Templars?"
We no longer can. I'm not sure I still want to. I know I don't want to if it means giving you up. That is unthinkable.
He couldn't just dump that on her without warning.
"As Rago said, we don't know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. There is an obstacle as well. To us to become Templars, they would have to change a few rules –"
Eredin couldn't finish before a powerful, loud voice cut in.
"That is not going to happen."
All three of them turned toward the house. A tall, wide-shouldered man approached them in the same black armor Eredin and Rago wore. His short hair was gray and his eyes were entirely golden.
Eredin felt a surge of hatred he wasn't able to suppress, never had been.
His uncle was the leader of the Templars. Doraton Greole was also a living demon, a proof the creatures of the underworlds could dwell among the living.
Seven
Rago
The leader of the Templars regarded Rago like he was personally offended that he was there, on the ancestral property of the Greole family.
It wasn't the first time Rago had felt that gaze fall upon him. From the day he'd been chosen to join the order, Lord Doraton hadn't bothered much to make a secret of what he was to be there.
Fodder was the correct term.
Rago had never let that bother him, going so far as to ignore all of Eredin's concerns about his uncle having long lost the ability to communicate with the gods.
Even Doraton couldn't rule the order forever, although he had be
en the head of the holy order for decades. In any case, it barely mattered. Rago had been called by the gods and that was the only answer he needed.
Now, seeing the way Lord Doraton looked at Joanna... For the first time, Rago felt like he might not be able to control his temper if the man targeted his fated instead of him.
Joanna was staring at them all.
"Who are you?" she asked. "To decide that?"
"I am Doraton Greole, the Lord Templar. The man who enforces the rules," Doraton replied coldly, eying her as though he'd never seen a female before. "And I assume you are the Terran female the messenger was talking about?"
"Yes," Joanna replied, holding her head high and not backing down even a little. "I am Joanna, Lieutenant Joanna Smith of the 26th Terran Army Battalion."
Rago's hand quickly moved to the hilt of his sword when a cruel, mocking smile spread on Doraton's face.
"A lieutenant?" he asked, laughing. "A lieutenant of what?"
"Of the army," Joanna repeated, not taking any note of the clearly disdainful tone.
Rago was glad to see that she wasn't the kind to back down when confronted, especially by someone like Doraton.
Eredin was uncharacteristically quiet, although his hand was close to drawing his blade as well.
"I got that, you silly girl," Doraton said with a sneer. "I was wondering what was wrong with Terrans to let females join their army? Do you not have men?"
Rago growled.
"One more word out of you about our fated," he warned darkly, "and you will regret it."
Doraton just grinned, measuring Rago from head to toe. It was impressive that he dared to do that, given that Lord Greole was much older than he and Eredin were. There was still strength in the man, it was obvious he'd been a great fighter in his day. It was just as obvious that those days were behind him.
"Already you fall under the female spell," Doraton said with false sadness. "You see, this is why Templars are not allowed to have a fated. This is why today was so important. I wonder year after year if you young ones understand the implication of your vows. Your life is supposed to belong to the gods. That is why we can't allow you to bond."
Joanna stared at them, wide-eyed and taken aback.
"Is that true?" she asked. "If I stayed, you couldn't become Templars?"
"Yes," Rago admitted begrudgingly.
Joanna considered that, looking from him to Eredin and back again. Doraton took the opportunity to interrupt, his eyes burning as he regarded Joanna.
"You see," he said. "There is nothing for you here. I came to tell you this in case my nephew and this disrespectful dog didn't tell you already. It was to be expected of a Merive, but I am disappointed in you, Eredin."
Eredin looked up at his uncle. Rago was interested, despite himself. He had always thought Eredin had some sort of a personal issue with Lord Doraton, who was, after all, his blood and kin. Now, seeing the naked loathing in Eredin's golden eyes, Rago was beginning to think it might have been something more serious after all.
"I don't think you heard Rago clearly," Eredin said seriously, never taking his eyes off his uncle. "Leave our fated be at once or we will make sure you will have an actual reason to keep us from the order."
Doraton's entire presence changed in an instant. The glare in his eyes was nothing like the mocking sneer had been before. There was only pure anger in his body as he took a step closer to Eredin, who didn't even blink an eye.
"You insubordinate little bastard," Doraton snarled. "If my dear sister was alive to see what you've become –"
"I don't think he can be subordinate," Joanna answered before any of them could react to that latest insult.
All eyes turned to her as she stood there, looking at the Lord of the Templars in a way that left no question as to how she felt about him.
"You just said so," she went on as Doraton turned to her. "You said they were never going to be Templars. How is Eredin being insubordinate then, if he isn't in your order?"
Rago suppressed a grin. It had been a long while since something had actually brought a smile to his lips. Seeing his gorgeous fated face off with the man who had clearly come with the intention to be cruel to her definitely deserved it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rago saw Eredin relax too, saw the same amusement reflected in his eyes. Without knowing what truly went on in Eredin's mind, Rago had to assume he was feeling at least a fraction of the elation he himself was experiencing.
Joanna was fantastic. Every single thing since they'd seen her in that cramped corridor on a small, doomed ship had reinforced Rago's confidence. If there was to be a choice between her and anything else in the galaxy, he would have chosen her without a doubt.
It didn't mean giving up on the order, though. It wasn't in Haverin nature to let go of things that were important and being a Templar was that and more. Even serving under Doraton didn't change that.
"You dare," Doraton hissed at Joanna. "If females weren't so sacred to us, I swear I would teach you a lesson on how to speak to your betters!"
"Funny how often that is used as an argument by men who really enjoy proving to everyone how powerful they are," Joanna replied calmly. "I think I've heard enough of you. Clearly you came here to drive me away. I can tell you it won't work. I'll either leave or I won't and it won't have anything to do with you."
Doraton hesitated. That one thing had been the lone truthful sentence he'd uttered to them that day. Haverins really did consider females a blessing and for a very good reason. Rago saw Eredin's eyes go wide as the other warrior sensed the danger too.
Then Lord Greole smiled.
"I see," he said with obvious relish. "They have not told you of our world, then. I should have assumed Terrans don't know anything about us. Let me enlighten you, then. As a female on Corolon, if you choose to bond to your fateds here, you will have to make some adjustments to your life. For example, how do you feel about children?"
He told her. He told her she'd have to bear children if she wanted to stay.
Rago couldn't believe it. Eredin looked positively murderous, judging by his expression.
"Don't listen to him," Eredin warned Joanna, but she wasn't as deaf as they might have liked.
"Children," she repeated. "Are you serious? I arrived on this planet half an hour ago. I think it's a bit early to talk about that. I don't know how you do things here, but on Terra, babies are the topic of year two, maybe three."
Years, Rago thought.
"And there you have it," Doraton said, shrugging. "On Corolon, things are a bit different. Our people are dwindling, you see. Having children is very important to us. Almost compulsory. Being here would mean you have to start using your body and stop playing war. Are you prepared to spread those pretty legs of yours and –"
Doraton never finished that sentence.
Rago didn't honestly know what had kept him back so long. A silently kindling hope that there might still be a way for him to become a Templar? Refusal to attack the Lord of the Templars? Forced respect for the host since he was technically intruding on Lord Greole's property?
Whatever it had been, the dam broke and Rago moved the same second when Eredin did. Rago reached the Templar first, his fist connecting with the man's face so hard Rago felt his nose shatter under it. Even without realizing it, he'd willed the bones in his arm to become as strong as metal.
Doraton fell with a gargled, suffocated cry as blood spilled from the remains of his nose. He landed hard on the ground, wanting to get up, only to be stopped by Eredin's sword on his throat. It was closer to flesh than it necessarily needed to be.
"We warned you," Eredin said calmly, all anger seemingly washed away from him. "You will apologize to our fated. She is a guest on our world, for now. She is a guest in our home and you have insulted her."
"You wouldn't –" Doraton began.
"I most certainly would," Eredin replied.
The Lord of the Templars stared at the both of them. Rago stood by Eredin
's side, ready to draw his own blade if need be. Somewhere in the distance, Doraton's guards were coming closer to them. If the bastard wanted a fight, they were going to give him one.
"I... apologize," Doraton said, raising his eyes to Joanna.
The female seemed to be shocked by the situation. She nodded mutely, pushing a lock of her hair away from her eyes.
"Let him up," she told them quietly. "I'm not easily hurt by words."
Eredin and Rago pulled back. Now it was Doraton who was staring at Joanna, his brows knitted. All at once, there was a sick, terrible hunger in his golden eyes.
"What is that?" he asked, pointing to Joanna's arm. "That pattern. Did you come in contact with the Orochi? It can't be! The messenger mentioned the Orb back at the arena..."
Doraton scrambled to his feet and started walking, mesmerized, toward Joanna, who backed away. Rago intervened, pushing the man back.
"Stay away from her," he warned. "This is the last time I will say this."
Doraton looked like he had to physically force himself to move away from them.
"Yes," he murmured. "I will return. That pattern, I know it. The Orb – Really."
As he passed by Joanna, the Lord Greole made a horrifying attempt to smile to her.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot," he said, the tone of his deep voice making his words into a lie. "I am not your enemy. I could help you with that."
The hunger was in his voice as well, plain as day.
It seemed Joanna had heard it too since she turned her head away and said:
"I think I can tell who my enemies are myself, thank you."
With a furious snarl, Doraton turned on his heel and marched back to his house. The three of them were left behind, the levity of their meeting gone all of a sudden.
"I think we should take her to my villa," Rago said, surprised to see Eredin give a quick nod as he turned to Joanna. "I promise none of my relatives are like Lord Greole."
Eight
Joanna
Joanna had to admit she liked Rago's villa much better.
