strongholdrising

by Lisanne Norman

  “We go to mess now,” she said, picking up her towel and beginning to rub herself vigorously with it.

  *

  The mess was on the western side, a small room with tables spilling out onto the colonnaded walk. T’Chebbi led the way over to the self-service snack and drink dispensers, digging into one of her belt pouches for change.

  “Coffee?” she asked. “Or you still drinking c’shar?”

  “Neither,” he said, going to look for himself. He chose a fruit juice and accompanied her outside to where the U’Churians sat.

  Conversation died out as they saw them approaching, making him cringe inwardly.

  It was Rezac who stood up and offered him a seat. “There’s room here, Clan Leader.”

  T’Chebbi’s hand in the small of his back gave him a gentle shove. Propelled forward, he had no option but to take the offered seat.

  “Are you liking it here, Tirak?” asked T’Chebbi, taking a seat opposite.

  “Very different from Home,” said the U’Churian. “So much space, and so clean.”

  “We did it that way after the Cataclysm,” said T’Chebbi.

  “It’s a great improvement,” said Rezac. “Zashou and I couldn’t believe the difference.” He shook his head as he picked up his drink. “Take the forests, they’d almost disappeared in our time.”

  “You getting used to female equality?” T’Chebbi asked.

  Rezac grinned. “Sure. I like the way they tell you if they’re interested. They’re more likely to approach the males than wait. Mind you, coping with two females is more than enough.”

  Jeran gave a snort of laughter, glancing at Giyesh. “Sometimes one is more than enough!”

  “How you getting on with training?” she asked, returning to Tirak.

  He nodded. “Well, I think. The way you mix prayer with military disciplines is intriguing. Of course, we say our prayers to the Prophet Kathan. The medical knowledge makes sense— each Warrior can treat not only himself but his companions. There’s much for me to consider, and learn.”

  “Each one of us is capable of commanding a Pack comprising ninety to a hundred Brothers,” said Kaid. “In any given situation, we all have to be able to make command decisions and justify them afterward. Once qualified, we are an army of equals led by the one with the most appropriate skills for the job. This is what we’re teaching you to become.”

  He heard the sound of a chair being put down, then the creak as Kaid sat. He glanced sideways, seeing him now sitting on the other side of Rezac.

  “That’s why we’re here, Kaid,” said Tirak. “And to learn the undercover skills.”

  “That’s another matter entirely. We’ll deal with it when your other skills have acquired the extra polish our training will give. You did well enough on Jalna and with the Chemerians, until you got involved with us.”

  “Not good enough. We were lucky that it was you we were dealing with. Next time might not go so well.”

  “Apart from information gathering on the illicit drugs trade and keeping an eye on our good friends the Chemerians,” said Kaid, “what other functions do you perform for Home?”

  “Our Matriarch is currently discussing our role with your Guild Masters. I can tell you we also protect our shipping en route to the other Trader markets.”

  “From what?” asked Rezac.

  “There are four other species in the Free Traders, but two of them are banned from Jalna because they’re untrustworthy. They didn’t regulate their shipping the way we did and more than a few of them became raiders, preying on cargo ships. Their worlds contain great contrasts. A few noble families or large mercantile groups own nearly all the ships, controlling the flow and prices of off-world goods. These raiders belong to neither category and feel justified in preying on the rest of us.”

  “What species?” asked Rezac, ears widening in interest.

  “The Mryans and the Vieshen,” said Sheeowl.

  Rezac leaned forward intently. “The Vieshen, are they birdlike, tall and thin almost to the point of being emaciated?”

  “Superficially, yes,” said Tirak, obviously surprised. “You know them?”

  “They’re one of the slave races who helped us in the revolt against the Valtegans. What about the Mryans?”

  “Heavyset, gray leathery skin, face that’d give you nightmares,” said Manesh. “And strong. They’re argumentative, too.”

  “That’s them,” said Rezac. “I wondered what had happened to the other slave races. Not surprised those two are working together considering their worlds are relatively near each other.”

  “The raiders are past masters at the sudden attack,” said Tirak. “In and out jobs. They disable the ships, kill the crews and strip the craft bare of anything useful, leaving only the hulks. Occasionally they’ll take the ships as well.” He shook his head. “The area’s too big for us and the Cabbarrans to police alone. That’s why we’ve concentrated on trading at Jalna.”

  “The Mryans and Vieshen will have no love for the Primes, I’ll be bound,” murmured Kaid. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Primes were at the back of the ban to avoid being recognized.”

  “It was the Cabbarrans, actually,” said Manesh.

  “The raids are getting more frequent, despite us changing our shipping schedules. It’s as if they had inside information,” said Tirak.

  “Do Chemerian ships get hit as often?”

  “We don’t have the figures with us,” replied Tirak. “But I don’t think they do, now that you mention it.”

  “The Chemerians can’t possibly be selling that information,” said Manesh. “Can they?”

  “With the Chemerians, it’s best not to trust them at all, then you don’t get disappointed,” said Kaid thoughtfully.

  “What did the Chemerians do to rub your people the wrong way?” asked Giyesh.

  “We were involved in a series of major conflicts with them some two hundred and fifty years ago,” said Kaid. “They never actually declared war on us, instead they attacked our colonies and the industrial bases on our moons. Quick in and out hits,” he said slowly, looking at Tirak.

  “Why? What happened?” asked Sheeowl.

  Kusac had been quietly sipping his drink, glad to have the focus of attention anywhere but on him, but now he began to listen. He knew something about the wars, he’d needed to working for AlRel, but though he knew the Brotherhood had been heavily involved in them, he’d never heard exactly in what capacity.

  “It started when one of the Forces survey ships landed on the Chemerian homeworld. Chemer is heavily forested and where the forests end, the dust and sand deserts begin. The Captain couldn’t see any settlements from the air as Chemerian cities are set deep under the tree canopy, so he assumed it was uninhabited. That was the second mistake. The first had been to send out a bunch of eighteen-to twenty-year-old raw recruits with only one experienced crew member, the Captain, who’d been demoted to flying surveys for incompetence. But that’s the Forces for you.”

  “I hadn’t heard that bit about the Captain,” Kusac said.

  Kaid glanced at him. “You wouldn’t,” he said. “The Forces tried to cover it up. Anyway, they’d been in space for about a month by then and the younglings wanted to get out and stretch their legs, so the Captain let them. It was midmorning, the landscape was flat, and the tree line a good several hundred yards away. He thought it would be safe. It would have been if some small jumping creatures hadn’t suddenly appeared out of holes, taken one whiff of their scents and bolted for the trees.”

  “With the younglings in pursuit, I assume,” said Rezac.

  “Three of them, and on fours,” said Kaid. “Next thing they knew, two of the younglings had been shot dead and the third was down, badly injured. The other two alerted the Captain and started off after their comrades as the Chemerians emerged from the trees. A firefight followed which resulted in several Chemerian deaths and the Captain escaping off-world with only two of his crew, both of whom were injured. T
hat started the wars. The Chemerians claimed they thought the younglings were large predators, but there are no predators that size on their world, and their explanation ignores the presence of the scout ship.”

  “How did the Brotherhood stop the wars?” he asked.

  “You have to remember this really was First Contact, our first meeting with another species. The Sholan Forces were led by a General Ryjik, the most xenophobic member of the High Command. He refused to even consider anything but total surrender by the Chemerians and his terms were so draconian there was no way they could have agreed to them. He was no worse than the Chemerians, though. Their terms of surrender were equally unrealistic. Then there were the prisoners taken in the skirmishes— ours and the Chemerians. Tales of our people being tortured were common. The Brotherhood was on the front line. We’d flown raids against the Chemerian colonies from which the attacks were being launched, but no attacks had been made against their homeworld. Talks had broken down because of the unrealistic surrender demands on both sides. Something had to be done to break the stalemate. The Brotherhood did it by taking out General Ryjik, and by bombing the Chemerian homeworld’s capital city, then issuing an ultimatum to both sides.”

  “What was ultimatum?” asked T’Chebbi.

  “Unless they both started negotiating for a lasting peace treaty, further punitive actions would be taken against both sides. Luckily they both listened.”

  “A harsh solution,” said Tirak quietly.

  “There was no other way to break the deadlock,” said Kaid, sipping his drink.

  “I can see why the Forces are wary of us,” he said.

  “They always were because we train every one of our people to take the initiative in battle if the need arises. After that incident, the Forces ensured the Brotherhood presence on Shola was kept to a minimum by posting us near the Chemerian border flying regular patrols. Which is how we found Haven and the Va’Khoi and started building our own presence in space.”

  “That’s why when the Chemerians met the Sumaan, they brought them into the Alliance, provided ships, and hired them as mercenaries,” added T’Chebbi. “A buffer between us and them.”

  “What exactly is the Brotherhood’s role?” asked Manesh.

  “It’s many things. Back at the time of the Cataclysm, we were the only military Shola had after overthrowing the Valtegans. We protected the first generation of enhanced telepaths, like Rezac and Zashou, because they’d lost their ability to fight. We were also among the first to be chosen by Leska pairs as Triad partners because of our own gifts.”

  “Gifts?” asked Giyesh.

  “Psi talents that exclude telepathy,” said Kaid. “Sixth senses that tell you of danger, whether a person is lying, or lets you feel the mood of individual people or a crowd.”

  “What’s your role now?” asked Tirak.

  “Same as then,” said T’Chebbi. “We protect our species above all other considerations. The Forces may protect Shola, we do more. We ensure enough of our kind will survive to start again if Shola should fall.”

  “We protect Sholans from themselves,” said Kaid. “Like assassinating Ryjik, and we still guard our boundaries in deep space. But until now, Shola was unaware of our involvement in space. We also provide specialist protection as we do on this estate, and we train the Forces in certain advanced combat skills.”

  Manesh looked round the table grinning. “I know I’m going to enjoy my time here,” she said. “It’s what I like doing.”

  “Well, you have the advantage that you come to this with a reasonable skill level,” said Kaid. “We may be running you through routines you think are too basic at first, but it lets us gauge your skills accurately. The real work will start next week.” He got to his feet and looked at Kusac. “Time we headed home,” he said. “Third meal isn’t far off and I at least need to get cleaned up.”

  *

  “What do you think of the training facility?” Kaid asked him as they walked back up to the villa.

  “Impressive,” he said. “They did a good job, followed the plans exactly.”

  “I’m pleased with it. It’s got the flexibility we need, and the mess forms a natural meeting place. I think it will promote a sense of community among our clan members.” Kaid glanced sideways at him. “It’s good to see you out and about at last.”

  “Mm,” he said noncommittally.

  “Getting back in training is wise.”

  “Yes,” he said. He supposed it was. It was something to do to keep busy, and he could always go there in the morning or late at night when no one was around.

  “Lijou and Rhyaz would like you to get involved with us in training the U’Churians. You’re certainly good enough.”

  “Occupational therapy?” He kept his tone light, but the request, and the praise, surprised him.

  “I won’t lie to you, yes, it is, but we also could do with your help. You’re a qualified member of Alien Relations, and Brotherhood trained. Your help in both fields would be invaluable.”

  A few months ago, he’d have jumped at the chance, found it an exciting Challenge. Strange what a difference a few months made. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally.

  the City of Light, the Inner Court, Zhal-Ghyakulla, 25th day (June)

  Resplendent in the black uniform of the newly formed Warrior Caste and flanked by four of his similarly clad young M’zullian warriors, Kezule waited for Zayshul beside the altar at the God King’s temple in the heart of the Inner Court. The ceremony was civil, with a blessing from the Emperor as the personification of Diety.

  “She’s late.” Impatiently he shifted his weight. “There was none of this in my time. Papers were signed, yes, then my wife, heavily sedated, was delivered to the new seraglio. None of this fuss or bother, no waiting around for her to turn up. I knew where she was.”

  “She’ll be here,” reassured Prince Zsurtul. “Our way is far better. I can’t imagine what a world with only males was like. I must admit I’m surprised that she agreed to marry you.”

  Kezule looked at him and Zsurtul realized what he’d said.

  “I only meant that it was very sudden,” the Prince said hastily. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” he said dryly. He glanced over his shoulder in time to catch her entrance. The blue gown she wore was slashed to the waist in a deep V and held in place by a broad leather belt of a darker color. Accompanying her was her superior, Medical Director Zsoyshuu. As she came closer, he could see that her head and hands had been painted with the same swirling blue patterns as the dress.

  “Burn it, my Mother’s made a courtier out of her!” said Zsurtul quietly to him. “Who’d have guessed the doctor could look so fine? The dress is traditional, you know, made of finest TeLaxaudin spider silk.”

  The fabric, Kezule had just realized, was gossamer thin. He could smell her scent now, artificially enhanced by some perfume. Dressed like this, she did indeed put many of the court beauties in the shade.

  “Why’s she painted?” he asked abruptly.

  “Again, part of our traditions. They are the symbols of the demi-Goddess of fertility, La’shol. I wish she’d walk more slowly,” the prince added candidly. “She’s got to stop striding now that she’s your wife and part of the Inner Court. The other females will only torment her about it. They can be rather cruel, you know.”

  More talk was impossible as she strode the final few feet to his side.

  “You can still do the decent thing and call this charade off,” she hissed in a low voice as they bowed formally to each other.

  “I think not,” he replied, enjoying the expanse of pale green skin her dress revealed. He found himself looking lower, hoping to catch a glimpse of the iridescent markings on her hips through the almost transparent material. It was an effort to force his eyes back to her face. “I had not realized I’d chosen so well.”

  She gave a short hiss of anger. “I will refuse the drink!”

  Kezule smiled. He was prepared t
o remain calm about her intransigence. He knew when the time came, she’d have no option but to accept the drink that would permit her to breed because the Empress herself would hand it to her at the start of the banquet.

  CHAPTER 8

  Shola, Zhal-Ghyakulla, 27th day (June)

  NONI arrived the next day. Rezac, Jo, and Kaid met her out at the front of the villa.

  “So this is your father, Tallinu,” said Noni, looking the dark-pelted young male up and down. “Brotherhood like you, I see,” she added, taking in his purple-edged black tunic. “Darker than you, but the family resemblance is there, right enough.”

  “You must be from my sister’s line,” said Rezac, holding his palm out in the telepath’s greeting.

  “Likely,” she said, touching his fingertips with hers. “Seeing as how the only cub you sired before the Valtegans took you was Tallinu!”

  Rezac’s ears disappeared in his black hair in embarrassment. “I didn’t know about him, Noni,” he said, glancing at Kaid. “Believe me, if I had, I would have…”

  “What, lad?” she asked kindly. “You had work to do then, a destiny to fulfill. So had he.” She turned to Jo. “And you’ll be Jo, his Third. Yes, definitely related,” she chuckled. “Both of you with a liking for Human females!” She reached out and patted Jo’s obvious bump. “Well come, child. It takes a strong female to live with a Dzaedoh male, believe me! Strong-minded, proud, and self-willed the lot of them!”

  Jo laughed, linking her arm through Rezac’s. “What about the rest, Noni? The gentleness, the love, the loyalty?” She smiled at her mate, then looked back to the elderly Sholan.

  Noni didn’t miss the way Rezac’s hand closed round Jo’s, nor the soft look that came into his eyes. “Besotted, both of you!” she snorted good-humoredly. “You’ll do well with each other, I’ve no doubt, and provide me with many grandchildren all wanting to clutter up my tiny kitchen! Now, who’s going to birth that cub of yours, Jo?”

  “You, I hope, Noni,” she said. “Only…”

  “Only you want to have it here, in Vanna’s hospital,” she said. “I understand. I’ll come here, don’t you fret.” She turned to Kaid, leaning on her stick and looking up at him. “You two go on ahead of us,” she said over her shoulder to Rezac and Jo, her voice suddenly gruff. “I got things I need to say privately to Tallinu.”