by Leith Briar
The Plaigh doesn’t stop until he is standing directly in front of us, a few paces away from the door which has just closed.
When he speaks, his words are guttural and yet snake like. He says a few words to Colm and then turns to look at me, and I realise there is something in his hand.
A weapon of sorts, like a gun.
He takes a step towards me, and I immediately step back, trying to get behind Colm.
Colm is twice the size of this thing, and gun or not, he might actually have a chance of protecting me.
“Hiy, hiy,” Colm says, trying to take a hold of my shoulders and bending down so he’s closer to my level. “Do not fash, now. I will not let him hurt you.”
I stop and look up at him for a moment, and just as I do, the thing extends a long arm and jabs me with the gun right below my ear. It nips like a bitch, but it’s not unbearable. My head pivots, wondering what the hell he is doing, but the thing just takes a step back and eyes me up and down.
“What is your name?”
What’s my…. How can I understand him now? He’s not speaking English — he’s still speaking in that horrible language… but now I know what it means.
“Her name is Sophia,” Colm replies, and this time he is speaking English.
Immediately, the alien’s head turns from me to Colm.
“Well, since she is standing before us now, I assume the deed was done and the girl survived?”
Colm doesn’t even flinch when he replies, “Aye. ’Tis done.”
The alien bobs his head once and turns around to face the assembled crowd. There are others like him, Bhiasts, and Balachs, all standing silently watching him, hanging on his next word.
“Then we must make haste. Bhiasts, you will begin the process of mating at once. Vrexor, you will ensure the girl is checked daily for signs of a successful mating.” His head swivels around, far further than any human could manage without moving their body. “Colm, you will take the girl back to her cell and come with me.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine and I stiffen at his words. I’ll be checked… daily? The thought of any one of them touching me makes me want to hurl up my lunch. And not only that, they will find no signs.
In fact, they only thing they are likely to find is a fucking hymen.
“No,” Colm says.
The aliens head stays in place while his body swivels around. The sight is so eerie, I have to look away, and so I look up at Colm. His face is hard, and he looks like he’s struggling with something.
“No?” Grey repeats.
“I will not be able to control my rage if anyone, anyone, lays a finger on her.”
Grey stays silent for a few long seconds, his head moving from Colm to me and then back again. “Interesting.” He turns back to the crowd. “Vrexor, take note of this symptom. I want you run some tests, find out what is causing it. The girl will not be touched until we find a way to subdue this side-effect.”
And with that, he turns and walks away, telling Colm that he still expects to see him alone.
I’m struggling to process everything that’s just happened. Ten minutes ago, I was actually feeling alright about everything. I mean, it was all still a headfuck, of course, especially seeing Colm the way I did earlier.
But I was dealing with it. I knew I’d be able to process it, eventually.
Now though, with the arrival of the Plaigh and the fact that I’m already supposed to be pregnant… now I won’t have any time.
Now I fear I will have even less choice about anything than I did this morning.
That’s the overwhelming feeling sinking in just as Colm tugs on my hand, leading me from the hall. There are a hundred sets of eyes on me as we cross the vast space, and it’s as if I can’t remember how to walk properly.
He must sense this, because after a few awkward steps he scoops me up into his arms and carries me the rest of the way there.
I’m screwed.
This is really happening.
I need to do it, and soon, before they discover that it hasn’t already been done. And if I actually live through it — if he doesn’t impale me with his horns or his teeth, or stab me with that claw, or snap my neck in a fit of rage — they will want to see results.
I’ll be poked and prodded and tested, like a rat stuck inside a lab. I’ll be experimented on.
And should I have a baby… it will never be mine.
A single tear escapes and rolls down my cheek at the thought. It’ll be taken from me and turned into a Bhiast.
A monster.
Just like his father.
Chapter 17
Colm
We knew there was a chance the Plaigh would come to check up on us, and I should have been better prepared for it.
But where was I?
Off gallivanting in the fucking caves. One wrong word from any of my men could have cost Sophia her life. All they had to do was admit the deed was not done, that she was not co-operating, and I have no doubt the Plaigh would have gotten rid of her the second we walked through the door.
Never in my life have I felt so protective over something as I do that little human. The thought of them touching her, laying even a finger upon her precious skin has me ready to tear the castle down. And I will do so, if it comes to that.
Shaxrin, the leader, is waiting for me in the library.
I deposit Sophia in my chamber — not the cell as Shaxrin assumed — and tell her I will come back for her soon. She was teary and emotional when I pressed a kiss on her forehead, and I vowed right then that nothing and no one will make her feel that way again.
I walk straight into the library without knocking and slam the door closed behind me.
“There will be no tests,” I announce, just as Shaxrin raises his head from some paper on my desk. “No tests on Sophia. No tests on me, or any Bhiast, for that matter. No curing of my symptoms.”
I despise speaking with the Plaigh because even after all these years, I still find it nearly impossible to read their expression. My best guess is that they have no capacity for it. No brows to furrow. No ticking of the jaw. The devices they use to make their language understandable to humanoid ears gives you no tone, no clue as to the true meaning behind the words.
The Scouts tell me that on Earth now they have paintings made by machines that are as clear as the human eye, and that one of these can show what it would take one-thousand words to describe.
The same is true for conversing with the plague. Words are only as clear as the painting that accompanies them.
And there is no painting to decipher when Shaxrin speaks. “You are changed.”
I cross the room slowly towards him, holding my tongue to see if he is going somewhere with this. When he does not say anymore, I bite. “Perhaps I have. ’Tis what you wanted, is it not?”
“You know what we wanted.”
I know the meaning behind his words. From the day we were created, we were not supposed to think. We were supposed to follow orders and turn them into primal reactions. Orders and instinct, that is all. But we never lost that human part of us that sought knowledge. The thing that differs between human and beast. I do not know the name for what makes humans more than animals, but the Plaigh could not subdue it no matter how hard they tried. “And yet, you keep us alive?”
“A decision that can be revoked in the blink of an eye.”
I take the seat opposite him, so we are closer to eye level than we were previously, and he is not having to crane his neck to see my face. I want to look him in the eye. “You would not kill us. You need us, just as much as we need you.”
“We have warriors all over the galaxy.”
I realise I am chancing my life with every word I speak. But what is the alternative? We cannot continue on the way we have been. This master slave relationship has only ever benefitted them.
And what is a life? A life is worth nothing when it comes to freedom. I had forgotten that in my seven-hundred years away from my home planet.
&nb
sp; I am gambling with my life but I do not care anymore. I have always been reckless, right up until that little human fell onto my floor and I realised my recklessness could kill her.
It is time to be reckless again.
“Aye, but none are as efficient as us. Why else would you want to breed us? You showed your hand when you came to me seven years ago and told me the significance of your plans. If we were so disposable, the fact our numbers grow smaller would mean nothing to you.”
Shaxrin keeps quiet for a long minute, before finally standing up. He is no taller now than when he was sitting on my chair, but perhaps it makes him feel better.
“Very well, Bhiast. You have made your point, and you may keep these… instincts over your precious human. But do not let them get in the way of more pressing matters.”
“What matters would those be?”
“Trouble on Zlendivia.”
I stiffen at his words. I have fought countless wars, and more battles than I care to remember. But I remember that one. Zlendivia is a planet rich in resources, and one of many mined by slaves of the Plaigh. The last species to attempt to take it were larger than us, and quicker than lightning. We lost more Bhiast during that war than we have in our entire existence.
“Trouble that would take me away from the task at hand?”
“The task at hand is complete, is it not? Leave your mate in the care of Vrexor, or a Balach if that pleases you better. You have a war to prepare for.”
* * *
It is later than I intended when I finally retire. There was much to discuss with my men, and I am ashamed to admit I tried to push all thoughts of Sophia to the back of my mind — other than sending Loche to the chamber with her dinner.
Shaxrin sent the closest thing his race has to a commander to brief us, which had me riled up enough to almost bring my teeth out. The commander is a being who has never seen a battlefield, yet dictates the way the battle should be fought. We have never paid him much attention, and we have survived just fine for the most part. When he finally left, we had to tear down his plans and start them from scratch.
But I leave all thoughts of battle behind the threshold as my eyes fall on a sleeping Sophia. She has not even removed her dress and is curled up in the middle of the bed with a creamy leg exposed to the world.
Luckily my men know if they ever entered my room when she is here without permission I would gut them from navel to throat, but the thought still has a surge of possessive heat running through me.
I want to take those legs and spread them wide, so I can see exactly what was on my lips this morning and claim it as my own. I chuckle to myself as I slide my furs off my shoulders and set about unlacing my boots. She would fucking shit herself, probably.
Then again… maybe not.
Crossing the room, I sit down on the edge of the bed next to her head and gently push her wild raven curls back from her face. She does not even stir, and I am half thinking it might be cruel to wake her.
But when has something being cruel ever stopped me?
Besides, she is not supposed to sleep with those things on her nipples, and the thought of taking them off was the only thing keeping me awake when the Plaigh commander was drivelling.
“Sophia,” I say gently.
This time she does stir, so I continue stroking her and saying her name until one eye flutters open. She quickly shuts her mouth and swallows, then sits up.
“What… what time is it?”
I shrug. “Somewhere between dusk and dawn.”
She gives me a sideways glance. “We need to invent clocks here.”
“If you want to spend your time on this planet coming up with a system, by all means.”
She rubs her eyes and then lets out a little sigh as she stretches. “What took you so long?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” I tell her. “Now come, we should get you to bed properly.”
I stand up from the bed, expecting her to follow me but she just sits there, a blank expression on her face. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve said that to me today.”
“What?”
“Oh it does not concern you,” she says, mimicking a gruff voice which sounds absolutely nothing like me. “I don’t like it. I don’t like getting left out.”
“I do not like worrying you.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman, your wife — apparently — and I’d appreciate it if you start treating me like one.”
I take in the sight of her, fully awake now with a fire in her eyes and her skirts spread all over my bed as she sits up on her knees.
“There will be a war,” I tell her. “And soon.”
Her eyes flit over my face, and before long I have to turn away from her.
“You’re leaving? You’re leaving and you didn’t think it concerned me?”
Rolling my shoulders, I inhale deeply before finding my reply. Maybe it is the feeling this day could not get any worse, or maybe it was my decision to embrace the reckless side of me earlier — but my patience for an argument is feeling thin. “We leave just after dawn. It is a full days ride to where they keep the ships.”
“Ships? I thought you said the sea was…”
“They are not seafaring ships. How do you think we brought you here?”
I turn around now and see she is deep in thought. I tune into her emotions and under all the frustration and anger she is feeling, there is a glimmer of something beneath it all.
Hope.
She would still leave me, given the chance.
Chapter 18
Sophia
They have ships.
Actual space ships.
I mean, of course they do. They brought us here. I guess it never occurred to me that they’d still be sitting here, a days’ ride away no less.
But just as soon as the thoughts of escaping come crashing into my mind, another thought occurs to me.
If I was to leave…
What would happen to him?
I look up at the man standing tall in front of me, his face showing all the expression of a graveyard angel. He looks just as he did that first night when I stumbled towards the floor of the great hall and found his hard stare.
It occurs to me that I fear him less now than I did then, even after everything. Even after seeing the real him and hearing from his own mouth what he is capable of.
And it’s not just that I fear him less.
I think I’ve come to… care for him.
When he said he was leaving my first thought — so quick it was almost instinctual — was that I didn’t want him to go.
And once I realised he was going to leave without telling me — that he would sneak away like a thief in the night, I was upset.
Angry, even.
You don’t feel those things for a man you fear. A man you despise. A man you think is nothing but a cold hard shell.
It occurs to me that if there was a ship outside right now, with a clear route home, I’d have to think about what it would mean to board it.
“So… this could be it? You’re leaving, and you don’t know when you will return?”
He lifts a hand and rubs the stubble on his chin. “If things go to plan, we will be back before the second moon wanes.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means?”
The corner of his mouth pulls up in a lazy smile and his eyes narrow a touch. “I am sure Loche can explain it to you. Would you really spend my last night in my own bed discussing the moon phases?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to work out exactly how pregnant I’m supposed to be by the time you return. I mean, they said they’d be checking. What if they discover I’m… a…”
“Virgin?”
I nod, feeling my cheeks warm. Colm sighs and takes a seat on the bed beside me.
“Shaxrin agreed you would not be touched. Loche will care for you, and Loche knows the deed was not done. You will be safe until I
return, at least. Just maintain you have no symptoms, but cannot be sure.”
His tone is gentle and reassuring, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re doing something wrong. That we’re going to be found out somehow, and that there will be consequences.
He said they’d kill him if he didn’t do it. Well, he didn’t actually admit that to me, but now I know don’t concern yourself means bad things, I know it to be true. I told him I wanted to help, and now that opportunity has been taken from me.
I don’t know when he will be back, and if he leaves for months, it will be a huge weight hanging over my head. The fear of being caught, as well as the fear of the unknown — the fear of what is surely to come when he returns.
But I don’t know how to communicate that with him, especially when I can’t even be sure it’s what I really want.
In some ways, this would be much easier if he’d just take it from me. Then I wouldn’t have to deliberate or actually think about it — like I’m doing right now.
“We should go to bed,” I tell him. “You’ll have a long day tomorrow, I guess.”
“Aye,” he agrees. “To bed. Come here, I will help you with that… thing.”
I giggle at the perplexed look on his face as he points at my corset thing. Instead of standing up in front of him, as I probably should, I climb over the bed and perch my bottom on one thick thigh, letting him have full access to my back. For as much as he can’t name the corset, he’s becoming much better at getting me out of it, and soon the fabric — now without its anchor — is sliding down from my arms and revealing my bare chest.
Turning my head around and pointing it up in the direction of his face, I open my mouth, ready to ask him if he’ll remove the little rings tightened around my nipples.
But my breath hitches when he turns to look down at me, and I see his eyes moving across my face, dipping down my neck, and trailing across my breasts.
As soon as I see the way he’s looking at me, my pulse quickens. In fact, it’s thudding so viciously I’m surprised he can’t see it with my neck strained up at him — but his gaze is far too caught up in a place much lower than my neck.
