Tychar was still in the process of extricating his flowing robes from the drayl harness and at that moment, obviously decided to dispense with them altogether. Backing away from the drayl to pull it off over his head, he turned to face us wearing nothing but his collar and a pulse rifle.
“Ooo, nice one!” Captain Jack said approvingly as she gave him the once over. “Not scarred up at all! Not anywhere near as handsome as Cat, of course, but still pretty nice. And I love the hair!”
Tychar seemed puzzled for a moment before he finally saw the man she was referring to and let out a yell even louder than that of any of the Darconians.
“Wazak said there were two of them,” Jack commented as the two men hugged each other like a pair of long-lost friends. “They’re brothers, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, still staring at the one called Cat in disbelief. “Trag’s around here somewhere.”
“Holy shit!” Trag exclaimed as if on cue. “It’s Cark!”
Leaping from his drayl and nearly knocking Nindala off in the process, Trag joined in the group hug.
“And not just him, either,” Jack said, laughing. “I believe you know Leo, too!”
“Great Mother of the Desert! There’s another one?” I screamed as a Zetithian man with golden-brown hair approached and, to the shouts of “Lecarrian!” from the tigers, joined in the reunion.
“Yeah,” Jack replied. “Picked him up on Utopia, along with his wife.” Putting a hand up beside her mouth, she added confidingly, “And she’s a real witch, too.”
“Oh, stop it, Jack,” said Leo’s wife as she swept a lock of her thick, dark hair from her lovely face. “And yes, I’m a real witch,” she admitted, “but one with actual powers, mind you—not just a bitchy woman.”
“Yeah, so watch out what you say to her,” Jack advised. “Those pretty green eyes of hers can set you on fire.”
I wondered if the withering glance she shot at Jack was capable of setting her to smoldering, but the witch apparently had better control of her powers than that. “I’m Tisana,” she said, holding out a hand. “You must be Kyra.”
“Yeah,” I replied absently as I shook her hand, still mystified that these people were not only standing in the middle of the Darconian desert as if they belonged there, but seemed to know a whole lot more about what was going on than I did.
“We’ve been in touch with Wazak ever since the coup,” Jack said in answer to my puzzled expression. “I’m a trader,” she explained. “We were here to check out some of their stones when Dobraton decided to get uppity.” She grinned engagingly, adding, “Nothing for it but to organize a counter-rebellion!”
“And how did you do that?” I asked faintly, though it shouldn’t have surprised me, because “Captain Jack” looked to be capable of just about anything.
“Oh, you know, give them a little taste of this and that,” she said with a casual wave. “I’m not sure, but I think it was the Hershey bars that did it, wouldn’t you say, Tisana?”
The witch nodded but added dryly, “That, and the fact that you told them I’d roast them alive if they didn’t join up.”
“’Course, it could have been the video games,” Jack added reflectively. “Would you believe they’d never seen any?”
“Hey, these people are vegetarians and they don’t even make fruit salad,” I remarked. “And in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve only seen one computer, so the video game thing doesn’t surprise me either—and I know they don’t have chocolate!”
“They were a bit iffy about the White Castles, thinking that McDonald’s hamburgers would be better,” Jack went on. “’Course, that’s a matter of personal taste. I like them both, myself,” she confided with a shrug. “Even the vegetarian versions.”
“Don’t mind Jack,” Tisana said with a roll of her sparkling eyes. “She’ll eat anything.”
“That is not true!” Jack exclaimed. “I’m just not as picky as you. Now, Cat, on the other hand, is partial to sweets, which for a member of an obviously carnivorous race has always seemed a bit odd to me.”
“It’s only because they were slaves and never got any,” Tisana put in. “Your Zetithians were slaves, too, I believe?”
She had directed her question at me, but the sight of four Zetithians standing together—especially when my own was naked—had me slightly distracted, so it took a moment for me to reply.
“Yes,” I said. “Queen Scalia owned them, but they were more like pets than slaves. She treated them very well.”
“Cat and Leo were pretty beat up when we found them,” Tisana said fondly. “But they recovered quickly.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “They look great.” And they did—breathtakingly so.
The din had begun to subside slightly as the Darconian hoards began to move back toward the city. I saw Dobraton being marched off to God knows where—didn’t really care, either.
Jack moved closer. “So, which one is your boyfriend?” she asked.
“That one,” I replied, pointing to Tychar. There was no point in denying it, because if all Zetithians were like my tigers, Jack and Tisana had to know firsthand just how irresistible they could be. Quoting Trag, I added, “Trag’s just a bad boy I like to—” I broke off there, for some reason deciding that it might be best not to say anything further. Didn’t want to ruin his reputation—or mine.
“Oh, come on, now!” Jack urged. “Don’t leave us hanging. We know what our guys are like. Tell us about yours.”
“Well,” I began tentatively, “they were coming off of a twenty-year dry spell, so I… had to… you know… I mean, there were two of them…”
“Oh, my God, you did them both!” Jack exclaimed.
“At the same time?” Tisana squealed.
“Well, yeah, but only once—”
Jack started to say something else, but the guys were heading our way.
“They have been talking about us again,” Cat said with a knowing nod. “Whenever they are alone together, they talk about us.”
I shook my head sadly. “You poor, unfortunate guys,” I mocked. “It must be awful for you.”
The one called Leo smiled. “But we retaliate by talking about them.”
“Comparing notes?” Tychar remarked. “Well, your Terran women are lovely, of course, but my Kyra—” Pausing for a moment, he smiled at me, sending delightful shivers running up and down my spine. “—looks and smells and feels like love.”
Trag groaned, pulling at his hair. “Stop reminding me! I’ve got to get off this fuckin’ planet!”
“You could hitch a ride with us,” Jack suggested. “We’ll head back to Earth eventually, and I’m sure you could find a woman there. You might not believe it, but I know of some ladies who are putting their daughter’s names in a pot for a chance that they’ll get one of our sons.”
“A lottery?” I scoffed. “They aren’t that—” I broke off there, because I knew she was right. It would be the only way to thin out the multitude of women who would want one of them. It was a bit like breeding rare and highly prized dogs, and everyone wanted a puppy of their own—except the Edraitians, of course. They seemed to be immune to Zetithian charm. Their loss…
“I might just do that,” Trag was saying. “You don’t happen to need a pilot, do you?”
“Still insisting that you can fly anything?” Cat asked with a wry smile.
“Well, yeah,” Trag said defensively. “I mean, I’m sure I still can. After all, I’m a natural!”
“You couldn’t get that old freighter off the ground,” Leo reminded him. “Which is why we were captured.”
“You don’t still blame me for that, do you?” Trag said, aghast. “Shit! I make one little mistake…”
“And if you had not, then we would not be here,” Tychar said gravely. “If we had been able to launch, we would have been shot down, not captu
red.”
“So, essentially, he saved your lives,” Tisana observed.
“Yes, I believe he did,” Tychar said, his smile displaying the warm affection he felt for his brother.
“So, I’m a hero, then?” Trag said brightly. “A real hero?”
Leo rolled his eyes. “He always did have delusions of grandeur.”
“But only about flying!” Trag grumbled. “And at least I didn’t go around waving my sword yelling, “I am the greatest!” all the time.”
“You did that?” Tisana said to Leo with surprise. “I don’t believe it! You’ve always seemed so… modest.”
“Once,” Leo insisted grimly. “I did that once—after winning a tournament. He never would let me forget it.”
“Well, you’re all heroes as far as I’m concerned,” I said roundly. “And I do mean all of you! Even Sladnil.”
“Who’s Sladnil?” asked Jack. “One of the Darconians?”
“No,” I replied. “He’s one of the slaves, actually.” Glancing around, I finally spotted him hobnobbing with Refdeck. “There he is, over there with the little guy who looks like a toad.”
Jack, who struck me as being just about the toughest woman I’ve ever met in my life, took one look at Sladnil and turned as white as a glowstone.
“Oh, God!” she said with a shudder of revulsion. “He’s a Norludian! If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s one of them! They really creep me out!”
Nindala, who had remained silent up until that point, lifted her elegant chin and said haughtily, “He is my lover!”
While we all watched in astonishment, Nindala turned her drayl and rode out across the desert, her bushy red hair waving in the wind. When she stopped to pick him up, Sladnil made her a sweeping bow before climbing up to ride behind her, his suction-cup fingers gripping her bare, blue arms. As they rode off toward Arconcia, Sladnil looked back at us and grinned.
“So long, suckers!” he yelled.
“Interesting choice of words,” I remarked to no one in particular. “Norludian, huh? So, tell me, Jack, why do they creep you out so much?”
“You don’t want to know,” she said with another shiver. “I mean, you really don’t want to know!”
As I gazed out at the two of them riding off across the desert, knowing that I couldn’t even begin to imagine a stranger couple, I said, “You’re right, I probably don’t, at that. So tell me more about Cat.”
Regaining her color, she grinned wickedly. “I found him in the slave market on Orpheseus Prime wearing nothing but chains.”
This mental image alone was enough to make me choke on my own spit, but I knew I could top her story. “Tychar and Trag were wearing nothing but collars and cock rings when I first saw them,” I said. “And I had an orgasm when Tychar smiled at me.”
Tisana shrugged. “I think you’ve both got me beat,” she said. “Leo was about half dead and in rags when I first saw him.”
“They are talking about us again,” Cat said to Leo.
“Better get used to it,” I said, slipping an arm around Tychar’s waist. “Of course, you guys know how to shut us up.”
“Yes, we do,” said Tychar. Gazing after the dwindling crowd of Darconians, he added, “We should return to the palace.”
“It’s funny hearing you say that,” I remarked. “After all, you were a slave there.”
“But not anymore,” he said. “I belong to you now, Kyra. No matter where we go, I am your lover, your protector, and above all, your slave.” Drawing me close, my tiger kissed me gently, melting my very bones, just as he always did.
And still does.
Epilogue
Changes have been rampant since the Battle of Arconcia—though a lot of people will tell you it wasn’t really a battle at all, since there was no loss of life, not even Dobraton’s. Having been there, I disagree, for it was as much a battle of wits as any war. As far as Dobraton was concerned, I was of the opinion that if she had been killed, it would have been no more than she deserved, though I thought a more fitting punishment would have been to teach her to say, “Would you like fries with that?” and have her serve each and every customer who walked in the door of the new McDonald’s for the rest of her life. While this may not sound like a particularly harsh sentence, it probably would have killed her in mere weeks because they did more business in that first month than any McDonald’s in history—and it’s quite a long history! Still, I would have liked to have seen it—and I did suggest it—but was forced to admit that it probably would have caused a riot, because the lines would have been moving too slowly.
After a great deal of soul-searching, Trag left Darconia with Lerotan, whose pilot had been killed in the takeover of the spaceport, rather than with Cat and Leo. It was hard for the guys to split up after finding each other again after so many years, but though Jack comes back now and then on trading runs and we stay in touch with them, we’ve seen Trag very seldom since he left. It was difficult enough for me to say good-bye to him; I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Tychar. Having been together for so long would have made it hard enough, but they were brothers! I suppose it wasn’t that much different for me to part with my own family when I left home for Darconia, but they had been through war and slavery together—not to mention me.
“Jack was right,” Trag said. “I need to go out and find my own woman.”
“Still holding out for a Zetithian?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he replied. “Or a Terran—might even have to go as far as Earth to do it—and then my dick will be hard for the rest of my life.” Grinning at Tychar, he added, “Can’t let you have all the fun, and besides, I have to make up for lost time!”
Which was something that Tychar seemed to be bent on doing himself. They didn’t have what you’d call a marriage ceremony on Darconia, but we didn’t need it. Our mutual bond is far more binding than any legal contract could ever be.
Although it has taken a few years to finally happen and neither of them has admitted to it, I’m pretty sure that Dragus is the father of Zealon’s first child. It isn’t as though the baby actually resembles him—at least, no more so than she would any other Darconian—but he seemed to be entirely too pleased with himself following the birth. Come to think of it, he’s been pretty cocky ever since he took over as security chief when Wazak became Regent.
No one guards The Shrine of the Desert anymore—or my door, for that matter, though Hartak does admit to missing my cries of ecstasy. Actually, I think he hangs around sometimes to see if he can hear me, because every now and then I run across him prowling the corridor outside my rooms. The Shrines (both of them) as well as the secret passageway are now open to all comers at all times, as any good shrine should be.
I’ve gone on with my teaching, and though Zealon has less time for such things now that she is Queen, I still have plenty of other students—along with my own children.
It came as a bit of a surprise to give birth to three of them at a time, but I’m not complaining, because they’re all adorable little fellows who look just like their father. I still hope that more mammalian offworlders will settle on Darconia, because unless they do, our kids will all have to leave home to find mates the way Trag did. I must say, the idea of scattering them like seeds all across the galaxy appeals to me. Jack laughed when I suggested that we start a registry for Zetithians so they can find each other, and the more I thought about it, the more I decided it was a bad idea—especially if that bounty is still on them. I can see no point in making it easier for anyone who might try to exterminate them again.
Jack tells me I should watch out for something called Nedwuts on principle, since they were apparently the ones who destroyed Zetith, and though I haven’t run into any, I stay ready for them. If anyone ever tries to collect the bounty on my tiger, I’ve still got my pulse pistol, and Lerotan left me his grenade launcher. He neve
r bothered to teach me how to use it, but I’m sure the mere sight of such a weapon would be enough to frighten off even the most determined bounty hunter. As you can see, I’m not the same meek little piano teacher that I once was. Not any more!
As for my career as a composer, my Zetithian sonata was published and seems very popular among the younger pianists—and a few of the older ones. It’s difficult to get new music onto the classical scene—there hasn’t been another Beethoven or Mozart in a thousand years of waiting—but interest in it has already grown substantially. I may be a one-hit wonder, but that’s okay. Inspiration doesn’t always strike on demand.
Uragus has turned out to be as much of a prodigy as I could have hoped, though the classical style didn’t hold his fancy for long. I suppose it was my own fault for playing a few rock songs for him, and there’s been no stopping him ever since!
Racknay went wild on the synthesizer and decided against a military career in favor of becoming a rockstar. He and Uragus got together to form the first all-male rock band in Darconian history and, after some debate, they asked Refdeck and Sladnil to join—which meant they had to change the name of the band from Princes to Princes & Slaves. As it turned out, Refdeck is a pretty decent guitar player and Sladnil, interestingly enough, can play drums—haven’t seen him drop a drumstick yet! He’s taken to painting his face for performances the way he did before our last battle with some rather terrifying results. He’s got a lot of rabid fans—most of them just as weird as he is—but Nindala doesn’t let any of them get anywhere near him.
Tychar was reluctant at first, but he finally agreed to be their lead singer. He wears more when he’s on stage performing than he did when he was a slave, but he still wears nothing but that jeweled collar above the waist, and his pants are cut so low that women have been known to faint at the mere sight of him—and you already know he can sing! Imagine that! The hottest act in the quadrant—and he’s all mine.
Rogue Page 29
