by D. D. Chant
“You don’t resemble the rest of your family, Benji,” observed Rem.
The room stilled guiltily.
“With that rash how could he look like anyone?” asked Penn scornfully.
“Penn!”
Uri frowned at his son and then turned to Rem with a smile.
“Benji takes after his mother.”
“I see. Forgive the observation, I spoke thoughtlessly.”
Astra’s brother looked uncomfortable and his tone was stiff. He cast Penn a look of distaste.
An awkward silence developed, filling the room with a cloud of unspoken resentment. Ben buttered another piece of toast and looked at her expectantly. Leda stared back blankly. What did he want her to do?
Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head mockingly at her. There was frustration as well as amusment in his eyes, and before she knew what he had in mind he turned to Astra’s brother and engaged him in conversation.
“Astra told us you were only a baby when she was taken, Rem, and that both of your parents were lost in the attack. Who has looked after you for all this time?”
Under the table Leda kicked him, but Ben’s only response was to move his limbs out of her reach. What was he thinking of? She had told him a thousand times or more that he was to keep quiet; the last thing they needed was for him to draw attention to himself.
Rem Uel Ne Sen shifted uncomfortably under Ben’s expectant gaze and flushed a little.
“My sister’s husband raised me, along with his father. They have been very kind to me despite the embarrassment I have been to them.”
“Embarrassment?” asked Ben.
Leda ground her teeth and imagined how satisfying it would be to strangle Ben while he slept.
“Through his connection to me, Benji.” Astra’s voice was soft and she regarded her younger brother steadily for some moments.
Ben asked how it had been decided which of his brothers-in-law would raise him, and Leda winced. A Tula would never use such a phrase. The correct term was Brother by Right or the Una term Brother of Bond.
Astra’s brother didn’t seem to notice the slip. He probably knew very little of Tula terminology, and had no wish to become better educated.
“Aya is Kai’s responsibility, therefore it was decided that I was also.”
The room became deathly quiet at Rem’s words and Leda saw Astra freeze.
Who was Kai, she wondered.
“And why was it Kai’s responsibility over your other brother in law?” inquired Ben.
Leda winced again at the unfamiliar phrase and waited for Rem’s answer.
“As Kai's Bonded wife, Aya was obviously his responsibility.”
Ceadron choked into his cup and Petta dropped her fork. The utensil fell onto her plate, smashing it. The assembled group turned to Astra. She had paled, but her voice when she spoke was calm.
“You mistake, Brother.”
“There are no mistakes when it comes to the Bonding. What is there to misunderstand?”
“I was never Bonded.”
“For a certainty you were, Sister.”
Leda met her sister’s eyes and saw a strange mix of emotion in them. She was defiant, but there was also disbelief, scorn, and even terror.
“I think, Brother, I would remember had I taken part in a Bonding ceremony. I was captured before I reached the Bonding year.”
“Bonding year?” asked Ben.
Leda shook her head, indicating ignorance of this new idea. She was trembling slightly and her hands were clammy.
“The Una Head Families form interlinking alliances called the 'Sequence of Marriage’. These arranged unions join the Head Families together as one large family. It was thought that the alliances would unify the Head Families and prevent civil war. The Bonded couple must both be over the age of ten before the first part of the ceremony takes place. I was taken in my ninth year, therefore it impossible that I am Bonded to anyone.”
Rem shook his head.
“You were Bonded in your third month, Aya.”
Leda fought against the urge to beg Astra to contradict his statement.
“It goes against every Una law. How could that happen?” Astra’s hands grasped each other tightly. “It cannot be so.”
Rem Uel Ne Singh’s face shuttered up instantly. Leda was taken aback at the sudden resemblance between brother and sister. It was unnerving.
“There were reasons that made it necessary for you to be Bonded earlier, and special dispensation was granted by the Headmen.”
Astra stiffened.
“What reasons?”
Brother and sister calmly gazed at one another, their expressions glacial.
“We do not speak of it.”
“You will speak of it to me.”
Leda saw Petta begin to shake, her face had blanched until her lips were bloodlessly white. Ceadron looked down, assessing her sharply, before sliding an arm around her and drawing her to rest against his side.
“No, Sister, I will not,” returned Rem with finality.
Those gathered around the table looked from one to the other of the two combatants, but no one spoke.
“For this ‘situation’ I was Bonded before my time and without my consent. Yet you are now trying to keep me ignorant of the reason?”
Rem Uel Ne Singh shook his head, picking up a walnut from the bowl before him and turning the ridged shell in his fingers.
“As a Headman’s daughter it was your duty to be bound into another Head Family. You never had a ‘choice’. Your mate was picked out before you were even born, your consent expected.”
“You took away my right to object!” retuned Astra. “I was an innocent baby unaware of what was happening.”
“You had no right to object! Knowing the reasons for your Bonding will not change that it happened.”
A thoughtful inflection crossed Astra’s face.
“I will not accept the Bonding without first knowing the reason why it was performed.”
A sharp crack broke the silence as the walnut shell gave way beneath the pressure of Rem’s fingers.
“You would dare to do such a thing?”
Astra raised her eyebrows, her face taking on a haughty expression of frostiness.
“Most certainly I would. Una law supports my refusal. The Bonding would be annulled. It is precisely to avoid this situation that the Bonding age is set at ten.”
“You would bring yet more shame on our family? We have born the taint that you have forced upon us, and yet now you will deny us again?”
For the first time Astra hesitated as she thought of his words. Leda silently begged her not to give in. She knew what her sister was thinking. Astra was worrying about what her actions would mean to her family’s safety.
Rem Uel Ne Singh was still glaring at his sister, his face filled with anger. Astra inclind her head slightly.
“No, I will not. However, before I take the final vows at the Bonding ceremony, I will have you tell me the truth.”
Leda threw her knife and fork down and made to stand up. Ben’s hand on her arm prevented her. He shook his head indicating that she should stay quiet. Her temper sparked angrily and she tried to shake him off. He proved stubborn, his hand holding her locked to the chair and a look in his eyes that said she would be sorry if she went against him.
It surprised her. Ben had never stood up to her before, in fact, she’d been pretty sure that he had a crush on her. Leda was used to being admired, she knew how to make men putty in her hands. Yet Ben stood his ground. Rem’s voice broke in on Leda’s thoughts.
“It sounds very much like you are threatening me, Sister.”
“Did it? I only meant to state fact.”
Rem tilted his head to one side, and considered Astra thoughtfully for a moment.
“Perhaps one day I will tell you.”
The room lapsed into silence again and Leda glared at Ben, daring him to say another word. Ben grinned at her and lifted his teacup in silent toast, but
he said nothing more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kai crossed his legs and settled himself more comfortably against the tree he was leaning against. His attention was firmly fixed on the house and grounds that were separated by a small, well tended hedge from his own property. His face gave nothing of his thoughts away and he seemed relaxed.
Yet Kai was not relaxed.
In the house he watched with such interest was his wife. He grimaced at the word, but still forced himself to use it.
Kai flexed the fingers of his right hand carefully, and studied the bruised appendage for a moment, trying to ease the stiffness that was already making movement uncomfortable. It had been a mistake to go to the training ground that morning. He’d wanted to show everyone that he was still in control, that Aya’s return had changed nothing.
It had been an uncharacteristic error in judgment for him. He should have known that the other Apprentice Headmen would be unable to control their tongues. The result had been predictable, and he was angry with himself for being caught off guard.
He was too used to receiving a certain amount of fearful respect. Aya’s return had cost him that respect, and he had been forced to defend his honour with brutality.
He didn’t really care much for fighting; it was too emotional and impulsive. Kai was not comfortable taking part in disorderly behaviour.
However, this morning there had been no choice. The veiled insults he had withstood for years were now more pointed, and the other young men of prominent families had become bolder in their sneering.
Kai flexed his newly bruised fist absently.
Yesterday he had felt almost sorry, disgracing her in such a public fashion. Now the memory brought him a small degree of satisfaction.
“If you’re that interested you could come over and see what’s happening.”
Kai looked around sharply, surprised to hear Shin’s voice, and saw his friend leaning against a tree not far away. Kai had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he’d been unaware of his friend’s approach.
“I’m not interested.”
Shin raised his eyebrows speculatively and, stepping over the hedge, sat down beside Kai.
“I have never seen a man waste so much time staring at something he has no interest in.”
Kai ignored his observation.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For yesterday. I know how hard you worked for your position in the army, and that it was not easy for you to give it up.”
Shin’s face lost its smile and he nodded briefly.
“It was nothing. Had our situations been reversed you would have done the same.”
Both men settled in to silence, each occupied with his own thoughts.
“What will you do?” asked Shin after some time had passed.
“As little as possible.”
“You’ll leave it all to Rem?”
“He’ll manage better without me. He wants to forgive her; I would only impede their progress.”
Shin became absorbed in plucking blades of grass from the well-manicured lawn.
“You don’t wish to forgive her?”
Kai tilted his head to one side, considering the question dispassionately.
“Not right now. Maybe not ever.”
Shin frowned and got to his feet.
“I must go back. Is there any message you wish me to carry to Rem?”
Kai’s focus was still on the house as he answered.
“Tell him that if he wishes to speak to me he must visit here. I will not enter his house while she is there.”
Shin nodded his acceptance of the task wearily, and stepped over the hedge.
“Shin? Tell him that if he comes he must not bring her.”
Shin nodded again, and moved off in to the neighbouring garden. Kai eyed the hedge interestedly for some time after his friend had left. The neat green barrier seemed somehow full of symbolism.
Aya’s return had stripped him of two of the few things in his life that he claimed affection for. She had done what Headman Chopra had proven unable to do with all his vast recorces.
Rem and Shin were no longer at his side. It was their duty to stand with his wife and, until he chose to accept Aya, he had lost them. He mused thoughtfully over the tangled circumstances that had brought him and Aya together in the first place.
Who could have foreseen the breakdown of the Sequence of Marriage?
How could he have ever guessed that the choice he would have had — should have had — would be taken away from him by circumstance?
He had never had an option as to whether he would marry the child that had been selected for him. He could have lived with that. A Headman thought of the good of the Una nation before he thought of his own desires. It was expected. It was the way things were done and he never questioned the traditions.
However, he had not been prepared for Aya.
He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forget all that stood between them. He couldn’t blame her for her capture, nor could he censure her for loving the Tula family that so obviously cherished her.
Yet he couldn’t forgive her for the emotions she made him feel. His equilibrium was fracturing under stress, and he couldn’t control the hate and revenge that burnt in his veins.
Aya was as much a victim as he was himself, he knew that. The rational side of his brain whispered that soothing truth every time he saw her.
The trouble was that the emotional side of his brain, the part of himself that he had spent most of his life trying to eradicate, drowned that whisper out with a pain filled roar of anger.
He hated the person that he became when he was around Aya. He would never be able to forgive her for holding that power over him.
------
The Tula
Senator Burton sat frowning over the viewer he was reading. He sat at his desk, a cup of untouched coffee slowly going cold at his elbow.
He’d heard nothing more of Ben.
Councillor Ladron had imparted the knowledge that he had been taken over the border into Una territories, but after that seemed to have lost interest in Ben’s plight. Philip still had a suspicion that Corbani Va Dic Ladron was lying, that the Una had not been involved at all, but that it had all been an elaborate ploy. He’d tried to believe that he was wrong, because if Councillor Ladron was behind Ben’s disappearance, then Ben was already dead.
Once Ladron had found out that Ben’s abduction was not a means for pushing the alliance forward, his existence would have become a liability, a secret that could never be uncovered by the Free Nation. To have Ben eternally out of reach, supposedly in the Una Territories would give impetus to his portrayal of the Una as unhinged extremists.
Philip knew that Councillor Ladron would have no hesitation in extinguishing a life that had become problematic to his own. He groaned and sank his head in his hands.
He wasn’t sure which was worse: to carry on with all the doubts, but retain some small inkling of hope.
Or to know once and for all that Ben was gone, and have that slender hope taken away from him.
It was his inability to do anything that was hurting him the most. He should be helping Ben, but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know who to trust, and the paranoia that he was being watched was so strong he could feel its weight on his shoulders. That Councillor Ladron would have no compunction in bugging his apartments was no longer a doubt in his mind.
Philip railed against the fact that he could not even speak his worries and fears aloud. He was trapped in a foreign land that became unfriendlier with each passing moment. He hated his feelings of helplessness, of knowing he couldn’t even contact the Board of Senators with his concerns. Councillor Ladron was far too cunning to allow that.
The Free Nation was in over its head. The Tula were too powerful; so advanced that it seemed impossible to go against them. The Free Nation could never fight such a huge adversary, but it was unthinkable to give in to Cou
ncillor Ladron’s dictatorial leadership.
The Free Nation would have to play dirty. It wasn’t something Senator Burton would usually agree with, but under the circumstances he could see it was the only way.
Corbani Va Dic Ladron was too powerful, his methods too ruthless, and his hate for the Una too strong. Philip was not sure where the hate stemmed from, but it was vicious and unreasonable.
He knew that when the time came, and the time would come, Councillor Ladron would unleash that furious hate upon the Free Nation also, and they would be helpless before the tide of his strength.
There was only one option.
Councillor Ladron would have to be eliminated.
“Would you care for another coffee, Senator?”
Philip looked up at his secretary, surprised by his soft approach.
“No, thank you, Lester. Could I have a cup of tea instead?”
Lester removed the untouched coffee from the desk, a slight frown between his brows.
His P.A. was probably surprised by his sudden preference for tea, thought Philip, glad to see his secretary taking the vile brew away. Since that day in Ladron’s office the very smell of coffee made him gag.
Senator Burton gazed sightlessly out of the window. The last time he had felt so powerless was when he had lost his wife. Then he had fought his misery with the drive to bring civilisation back to a world in disarray, becoming the youngest Senator the Free Nation had ever seen.
Work had seen him through those hard times, but he had no way of working to help find his son. He had been benched, forced to wait on others. At first he was angry, then frustrated, now it was as though he’d simply burnt out.
“I'm sure they’ll find him, sir.”
Lester’s words were tentative, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them both.
“Did Councillor Ladron indicate a time when he would be free to see me?”
“Unfortunately he is too busy today, and regrets that he will not be able to see you.”
Senator Burton gritted his teeth.
“Did he say when he would be available?”
Lester shook his head apologetically.
“No, sir.”
It was the second day in a row that Councillor Ladron had been unavailable, and Philip knew why. He was no longer in charge of the diplomatic mission, therefore he was useless to Councillor Ladron. It was very unlikely that Councillor Ladron would ever have time for him again. He had moved on to plan his next attack on Senator Burton’s replacement.
