Dark Nadir

by Lisanne Norman

  “Eat first, then we’ll see to it together,” she said, lifting the skillet from the hob to flip the cake over.

  * * *

  It had been a confusing day, thought Brynne, as he followed Jurrel out of the Shrine of Ghyakulla, back into the Temple of Vartra. He was overwhelmed by it all, he realized as he walked between the huge supporting pillars into the main aisle.

  Ahead of him stood the huge statue of the seated God, a glowing brazier held between His hands. He hesitated, then took a step forward. Jurrel’s hand, dark pelt almost invisible against the black robe he now wore, held him back.

  “You forgot the incense,” the Sholan said quietly. “Always the God is due our respect.”

  Brynne could feel the blood rush to his face as he quickly turned away to take a piece of incense from the container by the nearest brazier.

  “It’s easily done,” Jurrel said, picking a piece himself to crumble over the glowing coals. “Especially when there is so much to remember.”

  Brynne looked up at the statue, blinking as the light from the God’s crystal eyes reflected into his face. “Ghyan taught me better,” he said, stepping back quickly as the perfumed smoke surrounded him.

  “Allow yourself to occasionally forget and make mistakes, Brynne Stevens,” said a new voice from behind them.

  Jurrel bowed to the God before turning round. “Tutor Kha’Qwa.”

  Brynne found himself face to face with the Head Priest’s titian-pelted life-mate. He quickly inclined his head to one side, echoing Jurrel’s greeting.

  Surprisingly, she linked her arm through his and led him down the aisle toward the entrance. “We shall go to the west wing senior common room, Jurrel,” she said over her shoulder. “You can go ahead and make sure it’s empty for us.”

  “Yes, Tutor,” murmured Jurrel, dipping his head again before hurrying off to do her bidding.

  Kha’Qwa leaned heavily on his arm. “We’ll follow at a more sedate pace and take the elevator up.” She smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling in amusement at his obvious confusion. “I’m not inclined to walk too far these days. How is your little one? Marak, isn’t it?”

  Brynne had been trying not to notice her obvious pregnancy. “He’s fine. They say he’s doing well for his age,” he mumbled, unsure how to address the Guild Master’s wife. Wasn’t there some unspoken code about heavily pregnant females remaining on their estates? Worries chased each other around inside his head.

  The hand on his arm tightened, claws unsheathing only enough to prick the fabric of his robe sleeve before retracting. “I am on my estate,” she said gently, an amused purr underlying her voice. “The Brotherhood is my home, Brynne, as it is yours now. Apart from you En’Shallans, we renounce all family ties when we join. And there are no prohibitions on where we females can go when pregnant, it’s just that many prefer to stay home. Carrying and sharing a cub with the one you love is a joyful time to be experienced with one’s family.” She stopped at the heavy doors leading out into the main entrance. “It’s also not that easy to walk upright when carrying this weight,” she laughed, patting her belly.

  “I’ve still a lot to remember, and to learn.”

  “That’s why you came to us,” she agreed, waiting for him to open the door. “But the first thing you should know is that there is no time limit on your learning. Each of us progresses at his or her own rate within the religious side of the Order. This is not like one of your Terran colleges. No exams to sit, tests to take. We, and you, will know when you’re ready to advance. We’ve twinned you with Jurrel because he’s just returned from a tour of duty on Keiss, so he’s had experience with your species. Normal rules can hardly be applied to you since you’ve reached maturity, so you’re free to leave Stronghold for the delights of the local villages during your leisure time. All we ask is that you take Jurrel with you. Humans are still a novelty in these parts.” She stopped at the elevator door, leaning against him more heavily now.

  “Jurrel says I’ll be learning warrior skills, too.”

  “Of course. We believe that body and mind are one entity.”

  The elevator doors slid apart with a tiny hiss of compressed air.

  “I’m sure you’ll find many of the answers you seek here, Brynne,” she said, as they stepped inside.

  * * *

  “I think it most unfair that the Clan Lord didn’t choose a mate for you this year,” complained the young female sitting at Kitra’s left. “He’s treating you differently just because he’s your father.”

  “She’s the youngest in our year,” T’Chya pointed out, taking the last fruit pastry from the plate in the center of their table. “At least we know the worst now, Kitra has to wait. It’s not as if any bonding ceremonies will be held before the year’s out anyway.”

  Kitra sat quietly, chewing her food, well aware that both her friends were right. Because of her age, her father had, indeed, yielded to intense pressure from her mother to postpone a betrothal until the following year.

  “I still think it’s unfair, and so does my father,” said Chisoe. “He’s complaining to the Clan Lord today.”

  “That’s only because you’re jealous of Kitra,” said T’Chya. “You’d hoped to get one of the Brothers for yourself instead of a telepath.”

  “Not true! I don’t think Kitra has a Companion anyway! I think he’s just her bodyguard and she’s making it all up.”

  “You talk such rubbish, Chisoe,” said Ghaysa, stretching as she began to push her chair back from the table.

  “Then she should prove it! What’s it like having a mind-dead lover, Kitra?” demanded Chisoe, rounding on her. “Do you get bored? Is he rough because he can’t know what pleases you?” she taunted, flicking her ears forward aggressively.

  Kitra swallowed the mouthful so hurriedly she almost choked on it. “He’s not mind-dead, we can sense each other easily! And he’s the gentlest person I know!”

  “My proof comes from her own mouth!” said Chisoe triumphantly. “She’s lying! How can a non-telepath sense anything, or a trained killer be gentle with any female?”

  “You think you know everything, don’t you?” said Kitra angrily. “Well, you don’t! The Brothers have their own Talents and Dzaka’s as sensitive as any telepath! He chose me to be his Companion!”

  “Way I heard it, you chose him, Kitra,” said Ghaysa. “I’m not saying I agree with Chisoe, but you must admit it looks peculiar, going outside our own kind for your first lover, and now you’re choosing to stay with him. Aren’t you carrying being different too far? You don’t have to copy Taizia and Kusac, you know.”

  Kitra got to her feet. “Fine friends you are,” she said, fighting to slow her breathing and prevent her sight narrowing on the other females around the table. “You accuse me of lying and being incapable of making my own mind up, while mocking my choice at the same time!” She stormed out of the refectory, pushing her way past the other students.

  It was so unfair! She was caught between two worlds—the adult one of Dzaka and her self-imposed responsibilities for her young niece, Kashini, and the world of the Telepath Guild, where she was considered little more than a kitling. Not just that, but even Dzaka thought her too young to make any commitment to him and refused to be seen with her outside the estate!

  Tears filled her eyes, and as she began to lope down the corridor toward the main door, she didn’t see the Human female who neatly sidestepped into her path.

  The collision was abrupt and would have sent her reeling if strong hands hadn’t gripped her firmly by the shoulders.

  “Careful there! You need to watch where you’re going, young woman!” said a voice she recognized. “Wait a moment, it’s Kitra, isn’t it?”

  She dashed a hand across her eyes, blinking furiously till she could see Ruth, praying the other hadn’t seen her tears. She glanced around, but there was no escape and the female still held her by one shoulder. Behind her, she could hear her name being called by Ghaysa.

  “He
llo, Ruth. You’ll have to excuse me, but . . .” she began hurriedly, trying to pull away.

  Ruth turned and, slipping an arm across her shoulders, drew her on toward the outer door. “Don’t tell me you’re playing hooky from lessons, too! What luck! C’mon, I know just the place to go!”

  Inexorably, she was drawn out into the grounds in Ruth’s wake.

  “I come to the Guild several times a week for lessons,” said her companion as they walked briskly to the outer gates. “It’s not easy for me to go back to school after so long running my own life, you know, and every now and then it gets to be too much for me.”

  Stunned until now, Kitra found her voice as she realized they were approaching the gatekeeper. She hung back, knowing he’d stop them.

  “Not a problem. You just watch me,” whispered Ruth.

  She made no attempt to slow down, and barely nodded in his direction, then they were out in the street, free and clear.

  “But how did you . . . You’re not allowed to leave . . .”

  “I’m En’Shalla, and an adult, and if I behave as if I’ve a right to leave, why should he question me?” She stopped to give Kitra an impulsive hug before taking her by the hand and dragging her on down the street through the midday shoppers. “That’s the trick, you know. Looking as if you’ve every right to be doing what you’re doing.”

  She stopped suddenly outside an inn, pushing the door open. Before Kitra could find her voice to object, they were settled in a small booth away from prying eyes and ears.

  “Order what you want,” said Ruth as the attendant came over. “My treat for giving me your company.”

  Kitra stammered out an order for coffee, which Ruth echoed, then added a request for a plate of cold cuts of spiced meats.

  “You’ve had to go back to school?” Kitra asked as soon as they were alone. She had to ask because it sounded so unlikely. No adult went back to school! “Why? Don’t you feel as if they’re taking your adult status away, making you a cub again?”

  Ruth reached across the table to touch her hand. “I go back because there’s so much I want to learn, Kitra, and I cope because of that. When I go home, I’m in charge of my own life.”

  “Father has sent me back to stay at the Guild,” she said, blinking as her eyes began to fill once more. “I don’t have that option.” She looked away, wishing she was anywhere else, wishing she could control her tears like an adult.

  “It must be worse for you,” said Ruth sympathetically, “especially after running your brother’s house. Why don’t you ask to be allowed to commute to the Guild instead?”

  She flicked her ears back in a negative gesture, not daring to shake her head lest the tears spill over. “Father says I must come back because of his position as Clan Lord. Taizia has the excuse of Khayla to look after, I’ve none.”

  “Then why not get Dzaka to ask for quarters in the guest house a couple of nights a week? It would at least give you some time together away from your classmates.”

  That did it. The tears, despite furious blinking, spilled down her cheeks, and she snatched her hand away from Ruth’s. Hands covering her face, she tried to explain. “Dzaka won’t . . . He’ll not acknowledge—me—outside the estate.” It was difficult to talk when her throat was so tight.

  Suddenly she found herself enveloped by Ruth, her ribs almost cracking with the fierceness of the Human’s hug. “That no-good, fair weather. . . .”

  “No!” she said, pushing against Ruth’s encircling arms. “You don’t understand, it isn’t like that!”

  “It had better not be,” said the older woman grimly, releasing her and sitting back.

  “He’s just afraid for me, afraid it would harm my reputation. That other males wouldn’t approach me because he’s a Brother.” She scrubbed at her eyes, determined that Ruth not think badly of him.

  “What’s this about other males? Does he want to share you?”

  “No, but . . .”

  “Then is he tired of you?”

  “I don’t think so . . .” She barely had time to form one answer before Ruth had fired another question at her.

  “Does he love you?”

  “Of course!” Then she realized that in all the time they’d been together, she couldn’t actually remember him saying those words. “I assume he does.”

  “So it’s a commitment he’s afraid of.”

  “He says I should get to know other males before deciding on a life-mate.”

  “Do you love him?” Ruth regarded her carefully.

  “Oh, yes,” said Kitra, ears lying back a little despite her efforts to not betray her feelings. “I knew it was him I wanted from the first night. I can sense him, Ruth, and he does love me, even if he can’t say so.”

  A discreet knock on the side of their booth heralded the arrival of their drinks.

  * * *

  Ruth had decided what she was going to do long before she delivered Kitra back to the Guild. On her return to the estate, she went to the villa in search of Dzaka.

  By the time she’d finished talking to him, he had come to the conclusion that redheaded Sholans and Humans had a lot in common and was thinking fondly of his school days at Stronghold. Never had he been given such a dressing-down, even from Kaid, after the worst of his escapades. He was surprised at just how many Sholan swear words and phrases Ruth knew how to use.

  “You’ve reduced her to the level of a child, Dzaka, in the eyes of her classmates at the Guild! If you thought she was so young, why did you let this go beyond the first night? Why string her along if you don’t love her?”

  “I do love her!” he retorted, stung by the accusation. “I asked her to be my Companion, didn’t I? That’s a commitment!” His tail hung low, brushing against the backs of his legs, and his ears were flat against his skull in embarrassment. This was almost as unbearable as his interview with Carrie and Rhyasha, Kitra’s mother, had been. For an empath like himself, being exposed to Ruth’s contempt for him and concern for Kitra was a grueling experience.

  “That means nothing when it’s kept from the rest of her world.”

  “I’m only trying to do what’s best for both of us! The Clan Lord would never consent to any kind of bonding while she’s so young and inexperienced. She has to meet other males. . . .”

  “Experience be damned! You just want the best of both worlds! Her and your freedom!”

  “Not true!”

  “Then prove it.” Ruth’s voice was suddenly quiet. “Go to the Guild and spend the night with her at the guest house. Go as her lover, her Companion. Show those jealous little jeggets that your female is no child, that she’s worthy of the love of one of the Brothers. And go in your Brotherhood uniform!”

  “What?” Her last comment had thrown him. “Why?”

  “Because they’re saying she’s lying. That you’re merely her keeper, her bodyguard.”

  Dzaka began to growl without realizing it. “They call her a liar?”

  Ruth nodded. “They fantasize about attracting a Warrior or a Brother, but tell Kitra she’s so young no one would look at her twice. They’re making her life miserable, Dzaka.”

  “You’re right,” he said abruptly, getting to his feet. “I wasn’t aware this was happening. I’ll go to the Guild.”

  She waited till he reached the door. “Dzaka, if you stop at the kitchen, Zhala will have a basket of Kitra’s favorite foods ready for you to take with you.”

  He grinned at her then. “You’re a conniving she-jegget yourself, Ruth. So what should I wear? This robe, or my grays?”

  “Oh, the grays, definitely. You’re visibly armed and look so much more dangerous. The other females will be mad with jealousy!”

  “Is that what attracted you to Rulla?” he asked innocently. He made a hurried exit as a cushion sailed through the air toward him.

  * * *

  From the moment he’d arrived at the Telepath Guild, he’d been noticed. As he made his way through the front doors, the Warriors on duty there
snapped to attention and their officer came over to him.

  “Good evening, Brother. No trouble I hope.” His eye ridges met in a concerned frown.

  “Nothing. Merely a social visit,” said Dzaka. Mindful of Ruth’s browbeating, he forced himself to continue. “I’m here to see my Companion.”

  The officer’s eye ridges disappeared in surprise but he said nothing, merely nodded then rejoined his fellow guards.

  Dzaka continued past them to the office, where he was subjected to more of the same stark curiosity when he requested overnight accommodation for himself and Liegena Kitra Aldatan. It was granted, of course, and they directed him to the classroom where her last lesson was about to finish.

  Strengthening his mental shields, he headed off to wait for her. As the bell signaling the end of lessons began to ring, the students came surging out of the classrooms, slowing as they saw him lounging against the wall. This was going to be the truly difficult part. He was not one to show his emotions publicly; it was not the Brotherhood way, nor his.

  “You’re wearing purple,” said a voice at his elbow.

  Turning his head, he found himself looking down at a young female.

  “Only telepaths can wear purple,” she continued.

  “And the Brotherhood,” he replied. “We’re En’Shalla, talented like you.” He could sense Kitra now and turned back to look at the classroom.

  She looked smaller than he remembered, standing there in the doorway, dwarfed by some of the larger females around her. Even shielded, he could always sense her to some degree, and now he could feel her confusion at his presence.

  “Excuse me,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall to go over to her.

  “I see your bodyguard’s checking up on you, Kitra,” said one of the females beside her.

  Kitra ignored her. “Dzaka, there’s nothing wrong at the villa is there?” she asked, concern on her face.