strongholdrising

by Lisanne Norman

  He took hold of her hand, turning it so he could run his tongue across her palm. “You know the answer, Carrie. Because I love him, just as I love you.”

  “I don’t understand why that was a problem.”

  “It wouldn’t have been, if he hadn’t been brought up a telepath. I knew I couldn’t hide what I feel if we took the oath. You’ve no idea how hard I tried to put him off the idea.”

  “I have. Don’t forget I shared his experiences, particularly the execution detail you took him on,” she said dryly.

  “It was necessary,” he said, remembering how T’Chebbi, who’d been with Carrie at the time, had torn a strip off him for taking Kusac on that duty. “He needed to be able to kill our own people, or the U’Churians, if it came to it, and that was the only way I knew how to harden him. Anyway,” he said, letting his thumb rub gently across her palm, “he stuck with the training, and anything else I could throw at him. In the end, I realized I wanted him as a sword-brother, regardless of the risks. By that time, I’d made sure he knew what it entailed, and when we did take the oath, I asked only for his loyalty. I gave him what you already had, myself. I opened my mind to him, expecting only a brief mental contact as is common when two empathic Brothers take the oath, only it didn’t quite work like that.”

  “That’s why you had T’Chebbi bring me to the Retreat. You were afraid we’d make a full three-way Link.”

  “Of that, and that a Link compulsion like we have now would be generated between us. And I was right.” He looked away from her, aware of the complex emotions he was experiencing as he remembered that day. He wasn’t sure even he understood exactly what he felt for Kusac.

  She nodded. “I remember. Before I passed out, I was drawn to T’Chebbi as if we were lovers. Kusac said the same happened between you and him, but he said you didn’t love him, that it was me you loved.”

  “He meant I’m in love with you, not him. Which is true,” he murmured.

  “Why are you telling me all this now?” she asked after a moment.

  “Becoming sword-brothers is a time of training and testing for yourself, and your partner, to find out what you can each bring to the relationship, what you’re prepared to give,” said Kaid, his hand tightening round hers as he looked up at her again. “Garras and I had been sword-brothers. He was the senior partner, he asked me. We shared a minor Link because of the Talent I didn’t know I had. We were close— closer than lovers, because our lives depended on each other— but we never actually became lovers. The need to ask for more never came for either of us. I love Kusac as my sword-brother, as a Triad mate, and because I love you.”

  She regarded him steadily, refusing to read him, waiting for him to tell her what was in his mind.

  “I think he’s losing his grip, Carrie, like the telepaths in Rezac’s time. He can’t and won’t turn to you for help, nor to T’Chebbi, because of what happened when he was with you on Haven, and with T’Chebbi here. As his sword-brother, it’s my place to be there for him, at Nezule.”

  “I wouldn’t expect less of you,” she said quietly, taking her hand from his and stroking his head again. “You should have told me sooner what happened to T’Chebbi. I’d have understood better what was happening to him. I wish there was something I could do to help him.”

  He pushed himself up on his elbow, drawing her one-handedly down beside him. “I love you,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her, his hand pushing her robe aside so he could touch her belly. Beneath his fingers, he felt a gentle fluttering as their cub moved.

  Slowly he broke the kiss, moving down until he could lay his cheek against her, waiting to feel the movement again. When it had passed, eyes shining, he lifted his head, beginning to lick and caress her, his worries for Kusac submerged for now while they were Linked by the magic of this shared time.

  the Couana, Zhal-S’Asha, 20th day (October)

  Kusac muttered, moving fretfully in his uneasy sleep. In the chair by the side of the bed, Banner stirred, getting to his feet and looking toward the door, ears wide, muscles tensed.

  With a faint hiss of compressed air, the door slid back, silhouetting Chima. She waited for Banner to join her.

  “You’d been gone for so long, I came to check that everything was all right,” she said quietly.

  Banner grunted disbelievingly. He’d seen her hand on the butt of her pistol. “I’m seeing he sleeps,” was all he said.

  “What’s the message say?” she asked.

  “I haven’t been cleared to tell you,” he said, turning back into the room. “You’ll be told at the briefing.”

  She caught him by the arm. “He told you what was in it?”

  He looked at her and when she let him go, he joined her outside in the corridor, closing the door behind him

  “What’s important here, Chima? That this mission— whatever it is— succeeds, or that you prove Master Rhyaz right?”

  “I’m not out to prove anything, Banner, only to observe and, if necessary, act to prevent a disaster.”

  “Then like me, you’ll know we’re on course to the rendezvous and all is going as planned,” he said coldly, turning back to the door.

  “If he needs you to spend the night with him, he’s not coping, Banner. He should step down now as Captain and have you head the mission,” she said, her tone equally harsh. “The fact he can’t see that proves Master Rhyaz’s view.”

  Banner raised an eye ridge, glad he’d left his uniform off, and reached out to run his fingertips gently across her cheek. “Do you always sleep alone when off duty, Chima?” he asked. “Captain or no, he has the same rights and needs as you and I.”

  Flattening her ears, she snarled soundlessly at him before stalking off down the corridor to her room, tail swaying in angry arcs.

  Grinning, Banner slipped back into the darkened room, locking the door this time with a small device he had in his bag. As Kusac’s shadow for the last seven weeks, he knew better than Chima or Master Rhyaz what was happening to him now, and why he needed to be watched. All was going as Master Lijou had said it would.

  Valsgarth Estate, Zhal-Vartra, 25th day (July)

  The Triad ceremony had gone well, Rezac taking Jo as his life-mate and Zahsou agreeing to become their Third. Their choice had surprised many, not least Jo herself when Rezac had proposed to her several weeks previously. Because they were already a Triad, the three of them had shared the blood-rites, becoming kin to each other.

  Though he’d stood with Carrie and Kaid during the ceremony, he’d not felt he was with them or even part of the proceedings. Life was moving on for everyone, except himself. He felt out of place at the festivities in the garden afterward and would have slipped inside the villa for peace if Kaid and Toueesut hadn’t found him.

  The harmonics from the torc were working overtime, and he found it impossible not to concentrate on the sounds and attempt to understand them in terms of the Touibans’ emotions. It was like knowing just enough of an alien language to have an inkling of what they were saying, and it was exhausting.

  After half an hour, Kaid took him by the arm and, making their excuses, drew him off to one side where an elderly tree offered shade from the afternoon sun.

  “Will you talk to Carrie?” Kaid asked without preamble. “She’s hurt that you’re keeping your distance.”

  “I’ve spoken to her, Kaid,” he said, sitting down and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. “And I spent time with Kashini before the nurse took her in out of the sun.”

  “Carrie’s your life-mate, Kusac, the female you fought for the right to marry. Or has all that changed?” Kaid asked, sitting down on the grass beside him.

  “She’s carrying your cub,” he said quietly. “Seeing her pregnant brings back too many memories of what I’ve lost right now.”

  Kaid reached for a pack of stim twigs in his belt pocket. Opening the pack, he offered one to Kusac. He accepted it, putting one end in his mouth and biting down on it.

  “Do you intend t
o go on like this, Kusac?” Kaid asked, taking one himself and putting the pack away. “Being a stranger to us?”

  “Kaid’s right, Kusac,” said Kitra, coming round from the other side of the tree. She stopped in front of him, making him squint up against the sun to see her. Crouching down beside him, she wrapped her arms around his chest, hugging him. “I want my brother back,” she said. “Nothing seems to touch you but anger these days. You won’t let anyone close, not even me.”

  Startled, his arm automatically went around her, holding her as he used to when she’d been a cub.

  “That’s not so, kitling,” he said, taking the stim twig out of his mouth and letting his chin rest on the top of her head. “You know I care for you, and always will.” His eyes caught Kaid’s and he saw the sardonic look in them. He held Kitra more tightly, aware he needed this contact with her. He brushed her ear tip with his tongue, making her look up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  “No, don’t cry,” he said forcefully. “I really am all right, Kitra. I’ve not stopped loving you. It’s just— difficult— for me now to express it. It’s like I have to learn to use emotions all over again, but it’s beginning to pass. A few weeks more, then I’m sure I’ll be through the worst.”

  A sudden commotion near the house drew their attention. Kitra sat up, her serious expression lightening with a smile. “Vanna’s having her cub,” she said. “Jack and Garras are taking her to the hospital.”

  “Exciting times,” he murmured, helping his sister get to her feet.

  She hesitated, torn between her wish to stay with him and her desire to join in the adult excitement.

  He hugged her, his first spontaneous loving gesture in a long time. “Go on, kitling,” he said, genuine warmth in his voice. “It’ll be your turn soon enough. You should be with them.”

  She bounced up to kiss him then sped off to the knot of females crowded near the door into the lounge.

  “She’s a remarkable young female,” said Kaid, standing beside him, watching her. “My son is very lucky. If not for her, he would have wasted his life in bitter regret for the family he lost in the massacre at Szurtha. We owe her a great deal.”

  “Sunlight and midnight,” he murmured, forgetting for a moment Kaid was even there. “My sisters are so different, yet they both light up our lives so very much.”

  Kaid touched his cheek in a familiar gesture, letting his hand fall to his shoulder. “It’s sometimes easy for you to forget just how loved you are, Kusac,” he said quietly. “When you push us away, we can’t show you and in turn, you feel isolated. Maybe you’ve begun to heal at last.”

  “Maybe,” he said, putting the twig back in his mouth, listening to the new tune that had started to vibrate inside his head, wondering what it meant.

  *

  Vanna’s and Garras’ daughter was born three hours later.

  “Jikkoh, we’re calling her Jikkoh,” said Garras when he returned. “Brynne and Keeza are with them now.”

  “Who’s she like?” asked Kitra. “You or Vanna?”

  “She’s beautiful,” said Garras, looking bewildered and elated as he accepted the glass that Dzaka put into his hand. “Small, but then so is Vanna. And she’s dark like me.”

  There was laughter, and congratulations.

  “Soon be your turn,” said Garras quietly, looking to Kaid, but Kusac heard it and moved back to the edge of the group, remembering the circumstances of Kashini’s birth. Not in comfort, but on an aircar floor, with only himself and Kaid as inexpert birthers.

  He’d heard more. T’Chebbi, the hard, unflappable, ever-vigilant T’Chebbi, was pregnant by Kaid, and neither of them had thought to tell him. That had hurt.

  “It’s kind of nice to feel a superiority over all these new and soon-to-be fathers,” said a voice at his elbow. “No broken nights walking the floor or dirty diapers to change for us.”

  He looked round to find Banner and Jurrel standing beside him.

  “Clan Leader,” murmured Jurrel as Banner flicked an ear in greeting.

  He looked from one to the other, recognizing them but slightly confused by the sounds he was receiving from the torc.

  “Banner’s my Companion and sword-brother,” said Jurrel.

  “Ah. I thought you were with Brynne.”

  Jurrel grinned. “Now and then, when we need each other.”

  “You have no cubs?” he asked.

  “Nor plans to as yet,” confirmed Banner, glancing at Jurrel. “Though Jurrel might, being younger.”

  “A cub might be nice one day,” Jurrel conceded, “but my experiences haven’t made the proposition of a three-year bonding contract to any female attractive enough.”

  “We’re heading into town for a drink. Want to come with us?” Banner asked.

  “I leave early in the morning for the Nezule estate.”

  “We don’t intend to be late either,” said Jurrel. “We’ve got classes to take tomorrow, and we’ve an appointment with Master Sorli in the afternoon to discuss training schedules for a new batch of Terran telepaths due in at Chagda Station in a couple of weeks.”

  “More Terrans?”

  “Yes, this time more females, and younger ones. Forty altogether.”

  “I heard we’d sent teachers to Keiss and Earth to work in the Humans’ own centers. Train them there,” he said.

  “We have. These ones are the last of those agreed on in our original treaty with Earth. I have a feeling they won’t voluntarily send any more.”

  “Are you coming with us?” asked Jurrel.

  He’d gone with them, glad to escape from the surfeit of pregnant females in his Clan— even his own mother was expecting cubs, twins no less!— that only served to make him more afraid that the implant had done one last destructive act in making him sterile. It took a great many drinks that night before the edges of his world blurred enough to make them less painful.

  Shanagi Space Port, Zhal-Vartra, 26th day (July)

  In the early morning heat, the dark surface of the landing field seemed to shimmer as they waited for the door of the alien shuttle to open. Without a joint or seam, the bronze-colored vehicle had an organic look, as if it had grown naturally or were some strange sleeping creature. Ovoid in shape, the outer surface undulated upward from the blunt bow, sweeping back toward the stubby rear end. The sides flared upward, almost to the midsection, revealing the undercarriage before flowing down again toward the stern. Whatever method of propulsion they used, nothing was visible.

  “A ray fish,” Nesul murmured to himself. “It looks like a ray fish. I hope the heat doesn’t distress them.”

  Surrounded by an honor guard of the Brotherhood and Warriors, the Governor waited on the white carpet beside Ambassador Mrocca of the Cabbarrans for the TeLaxaudin Ambassadorial party to emergence.

  Mrocca lowered her haunches to the ground, looking up at the Sholan leader with an expression of amusement on her long, narrow face.

  She began to speak, the translator taking over almost immediately. “You think? I think flying creature. Sits on flowers on your world. Not to be worrying, Governor,” she said. “Heat will please Ambassador Zeashimis.”

  “So I’m told,” said Nesul, looking down at the smaller being. “But this is excessive heat, even for us.” He squinted briefly up at the blazing orb of the sun. “Is Zeashimis a male or a female?” he asked, suddenly realizing he didn’t know the gender of the person he was about to greet.

  “Neither. They are both.”

  Nesul shut his eyes briefly. If the holo images were to be believed, this was the strangest of the Alliance species to date. Now he discovered at the last moment they were genderless! Why hadn’t his aides picked up on this matter before now?

  Mrocca made the sound of laughter. “This information not public. Think of them as male if you prefer. They not travel in female phase.”

  Relieved that he hadn’t been let down after all, he glanced back at the shuttle. A doorway was beginning to appear in the
fuselage as the fabric of the craft seemed to part and shrink back. A short gangway emerged and moments later, two bronze spindly-limbed beings, clad only in breechclouts under skirts of thin floating panels of dark blue cloth, emerged holding staffs almost as tall as themselves. Lifting their feet high, with a swaying, rocking gait, they made their way down to the gangway until they stood on the white carpet. They stopped, obviously waiting for the rest of their party.

  “Honor guard,” said Mrocca. “Staffs are potent energy weapons. Very nasty.” She shook her head, the stiff crest over her shoulders briefly bushing out then settling again.

  The Ambassadorial party emerged then, six of them, dressed in different shades of gauzy cloth strips held in at the waist and floating from a band round their necks. Behind them came two more of the strange warriors.

  The morning breeze blew their scent toward Nesul. It was strange, alien, unlike anything he’d ever smelled before. He noted the distinctive way they held their arms tucked close to their bodies, elbows bent, the hands drooping forward. Their heads moved constantly, looking not just from one to the other, but around them at the various shuttles and cargo tenders lying in their bays.

  As the TeLaxaudin party drew close, the two guards at the front stepped to either side to allow their Ambassadors to meet the Sholan and Cabbaran leaders.

  They stopped, forming a small wedge with one standing alone in front of him. Nesul was struck by how small they were, reaching only to mid-chest height. They were almost as small as the Chemerians.

  Pulling his thoughts back to the moment, Nesul bowed. “Ambassador Zeashimis. Welcome to Shola. I trust your trip was a pleasant one.”

  Zeashimis, eyes swirling as he adjusted them to close vision, dipped his smooth oval head to one side, his tiny mandibles clicking softly, hands moving in small, graceful gestures.

  Nesul heard a gentle humming that seemed to vibrate the very air around them, then Zeashimis’ translator began to speak.

  “Arriving better. Grateful voyaging done. Sholans from invitation pleasing be.”

  Nesul tried not to glance at Mrocca for a better interpretation. “You honor us with your presence,” he said, thinking that at least couldn’t be misinterpreted. This close, he realized the TeLaxaudin scents were more like perfumes. His nose could pick up at least four distinct ones. “If you would accompany us into the building, we have transport vehicles waiting to escort you to the Governor’s Palace.”