by Morgan Hawke
Fallon dug her fingers into the pillow. Sobehk ... She did not want to face him. She was not ready to say good-bye.
“Why in Chaos not? She was dead asleep when I set her in it.”
“Because she’s feral.” Sobehk sighed heavily. “Khan, she’s been living in the bowels of a vermin-infested station run by cutthroats. She would sleep more comfortably in a blast hole high up in a wall before she would fall asleep in that bed. In fact, I found her more than once sleeping quite comfortably curled up in a disused drainpipe.”
“I find it hard to believe that a talent like the Fallen Star would sleep in a drainpipe! She had to be earning her weight in Imperial credits.”
“She probably did, and I’m pretty damned sure it’s all in her body. Did you get a look at the report on her augmentations? It’s all state-of-the-art, elenium and titanium alloy. Her internal comp is worth a small craft all by itself, but it’s obvious from her behavior that she didn’t live in the station’s top-side. She probably had a snug hole somewhere in the deeps that she had to climb to reach.”
Fallon frowned. That was a pretty damned close description of her cubby.
Sobehk chuckled. “My guess is that she’s tucked into the smallest, darkest, highest place in here.”
“Such as?”
“Try there.”
The wardrobe’s doors were pulled open.
Fallon froze.
The clothes below her were shifted about. “She’s not in here.” Khan’s voice showed clear annoyance.
“Try looking up, not down.” Sobehk sounded like he was barely holding back outright laughter.
“She couldn’t possibly fit!”
“Oh, yes, she could. I watched her slide into a sewer pipe a child would have difficulty getting into.”
The boxes shifted at the back of her head.
Fallon curled tighter into the corner, but she was already wedged in as tight as she could go.
“What in bleeding Chaos ...?”
The pillow was snatched from behind her, and someone grabbed the collar of her robes. Oh, shit! Fallon scrabbled for handholds as she was hauled headfirst from the shelf and into the light. The pillows spilled to the floor as she fell into Khan’s arms.
Khan set her on her feet, one hand knotted in the back of her robes, and glared down at her. “What in the name of Chaos were you doing in there?”
Fallon rubbed at her eyes. “I was sleeping.” She folded her arms and looked away from his angry copper gaze. “‘Syr.”
He slammed the wardrobe door closed with his free hand. “I have a perfectly good bed.”
Fallon rolled her eyes. “It’s in the floor, and perfectly visible! Anybody walking in here will go straight to it!”
Sobehk snorted then sighed. “Khan, I doubt she’s ever slept in a real bed.”
Fallon closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see him. And no, she hadn’t slept in an actual bed before. Too many things could find you there.
“Well, she’s going to sleep in one now.” Khan shook her by the collar of the robe. “No more sleeping in the closet!”
Fallon gritted her teeth. Fat chance.
“You’re going to have to tie her in the bed if you expect her to stay there.” Sobehk definitely sounded amused.
Fallon opened her eyes and peeked at the mirrors. Sobehk was a tall, broad, pale shimmer in the smoky glass. Long cream and gold robes draped him to the floor, and he appeared to be leaning on the curved handle of some sort of pale staff. His hair fell down his back in a loose fall of frost white. Her heart lurched.
Khan swiped a hand across his jaw. “Mother Night, I cannot believe that one of the brightest minds in civilized space prefers the upper shelf of the closet to a bed!”
Fallon’s brows rose. “You’re supposed to be civilized?”
Both men stiffened.
Fallon clapped both hands over her mouth. Great Maker, where was her sense?
“Compared to you?” Khan’s eyes narrowed, his lip curled. “I don’t sleep in the closet! ” A growl rumbled.
Sobehk smiled. “You’re growling.”
Khan snarled at Sobehk. “I know I’m growling!”
Sobehk shook his head and chuckled. “Khan, she’s feral. I doubt she even knows how to eat at a table.” He looked over at Fallon. “Do you?”
Fallon’s mouth fell open. “I’ve eaten at a table before.” Well, at the counter of the diner, occasionally, when she wasn’t in hiding during assignments.
Khan released a long breath. “How am I supposed to take her before the Mehdjay council if she doesn’t know even the basics of polite behavior?”
Sobehk rolled his eyes. “I believe I already mentioned that she needed a lot of training?” He folded his arms and smiled. “I wasn’t talking about upuaht skills. She knows how to fight. It’s everything else that needs work.”
“I don’t have time for this!” Khan bared his long teeth. “I have duties!”
“I guess you should have thought of that before you took custody of a feral rehkyt.” Sobehk grinned maliciously. “I feel so bad for you.”
“Do you?” Khan turned to Sobehk. “Then you can help. I’ll have the staff move you in with me.”
Sobehk stilled. “What?”
“I can’t have her disappearing into drain holes or conduits when my back is turned. You’re merely a passenger, so you can help civilize her while I’m on duty.”
Fallon jerked. Khan was having Sobehk watch her?
Sobehk moved closer. “Khan, are you out of your mind?” He stood a full head taller than the lord-officer and was nearly twice as broad, but he moved stiffly, supported by the thick staff clutched in his hand. He looked better, but he was obviously not well. “You can’t expect me to stay here and not want to ...” He bared his teeth. “That’s cruel, even for you!”
Khan smiled and set one hand on his hip. “I didn’t say you couldn’t have her.”
Sobehk’s eyes opened wide and he looked at Fallon. “Are you serious?”
Fallon stared at him, fully aware that her heart was beating in her mouth, afraid to think, and even more afraid to feel.
Khan turned to smile at Fallon. “Isabeau knows who she belongs to.”
Fallon cringed and stared at the floor. And she thought Sobehk was a sadistic bastard?
Khan lifted his chin. “Since you’ll be sleeping in my bed, you can help keep her ‘tied’ in it.” He raised an insinuating brow. “Among other activities.”
Sobehk folded his arms and smiled. “Missed me?”
Khan pursed his lips. “Perhaps a little.”
“I see.” Sobehk grinned and shook his head. His mouth tightened. “I’ll need a leash and a training whip.”
Fallon turned to gape at Sobehk. A leash and a whip?
“You can use mine.” Khan grinned and reached into his robes and pulled out a length of black chain with a leather loop at one end. “Start with voice training.”
Fallon blinked. “What’s wrong with my voice?”
Sobehk snorted as he took the leash from Khan. “The fact that you are using it for something other than answering direct questions.” He took a step closer and set his hand on Fallon’s shoulder. “I’ll see she gets the basics.”
Fallon couldn’t help the warmth that coiled around her heart with his touch.
Sobehk snapped the leash onto the chain around Fallon’s neck.
Fallon flinched, her gaze drawn to the black chain from her throat to Sobehk’s hand. On second thought, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Khan might know what was in her head and what she was capable of doing, but Sobehk understood her habits. Regardless of the fact that he had taken three days to catch her, he had somehow managed to stay on her ass all three days.
Khan shoved back his robe sleeve and raised his brow at Sobehk. “Think she’ll be ready to eat at the table by dinner?” Coiled around his wrist was a length of braided leather that ended in a supple handle. He loosened the leather from his wrist, revealing a slend
er whip about a meter long.
“This stray?” Sobehk rolled his eyes. “She’ll probably be more comfortable with a bowl on the floor.”
“What?” Fallon set her jaw and glared at one then the other. They were both sadistic bastards.
Khan coiled the meter or so of leather, smiling tiredly. “It will be enjoyable having your company again.” He handed the whip to Sobehk.
Sobehk took the whip and smiled as well. “If we can keep from tearing out each other’s throats this time.”
Khan turned away. “A great deal of time has passed since the academy. There is only one constant in life, and that is change.” He looked down then took a step away. “I’ll assign crew to move your belongings.” He strode for the far end of the room.
* * * * *
Four Skeldhi men in plain black skin-suits trooped through the oval door of Khan’s room towing large red cases and matching smaller trunks. They set them in a neat arrangement beside Khan’s black cases. One of the men went to the wall just past the double doors to Khan’s wardrobe. He pressed his palm against it. The wall shifted as the mimetic material of the wall reshaped itself. Two more doors appeared, indicating a second wardrobe.
Sobehk orchestrated the arrangement of his belongings while kneeling comfortably on one of the large pillows by the low table in the room’s center.
Her leash tucked into Sobehk’s sash, Fallon knelt at his side on the bare carpet as ordered, her knees tight together, the tops of her feet flat on the carpeting, heels slightly out, and her palms flat on her thighs. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position to sit in, but she’d been in far worse positions for far longer periods of time.
Under Sobehk’s direction, the crew encouraged ledges to form from the mimetic walls and art objects were set on them. A few colorful hangings were posted on the walls between the tall mirrors. Clothing was unpacked and set in the new wardrobe. The four crewmen glanced at Fallon on occasion, but not one of them openly stared.
Fallon found the whole display fascinating.
“Isabeau, don’t stare; it’s rude.” Sobehk’s voice was soft but firm.
Fallon dropped her gaze to the carpet. “What? Am I supposed to pretend they’re not there?”
Sobehk snorted in clear amusement. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you are, and you will address me as ‘Syr .”
“Not you, too?” Fallon looked up at him and hunched her shoulders. “‘Syr.”
Sobehk grinned. “Yes, me, too. In fact, you are to address anyone in possession of your leash as ‘Syr .”
Fallon turned away. Leashes, collars, ‘Syr ... Gross! She suddenly had the most incredible urge to writhe on the floor in complete disgust.
Sobehk had the nerve to chuckle. “You’ll get used to it.”
Fallon cringed. “Do I have to?” She curled her lip. “‘Syr.”
Sobehk raised his brow and gave her a broad smile. “You’ll get beaten a lot less.”
Fallon opened her mouth to reply. I haven’t gotten beaten yet. And closed her mouth just in time. There was a whip sitting on his knee. Tempting Fate when it was sitting right next to her was probably not a good idea.
The crew trooped out and made the door disappear behind them.
Fallon looked over at Sobehk. “Now what?”
He raised an expectant brow.
Fallon hunched. “‘Syr.”
Sobehk nodded. “Now, I teach you some manners.”
Everything went downhill from there.
* * * * *
“Sit.”
Fallon fumed as she sank down toward the carpet for what had to be the hundredth time.
“Roll on the balls of your feet. Keep your knees together, your shoulders back, and your back straight.” Sobehk gestured with the uncoiled whip as he spoke. “Don’t rush! Calmly.”
Fallon eased onto her knees and was never so grateful for her internal augmentations. Without them, she would have fallen on her face more than once.
“Sit down on your heels. Set your hands on your thighs gracefully, chin up, and with poise.” Sobehk nodded. “Better, much better.”
Fallon let out a soft breath.
“Stand.”
She stood.
“That’s it. Roll back onto to your heels.” The whip flicked out, tapping her thigh with a sting that was as fast and fleeting as it was accurate. “Thighs apart!
Fallon ground her teeth and parted her feet exactly shoulder-width apart. Sobehk was disgustingly free and painfully accurate with that whip.
“Chin up. Show some pride.” Sobehk’s eyes narrowed. “You are an upuaht rehkyt , a fighter, a rehkyt who defends her master, a pet with purpose, not a saysehn rehkyt , a flower, a pet that sits on her master’s lap looking decorative!”
Fallon took a deep breath and lifted her chin.
“And get that look off your face!”
Fallon worked to school the annoyance from her expression. It wasn’t easy.
“Sit.”
And so on.
“Bow.”
While kneeling, Fallon made a triangle with her thumbs and index fingers on the carpet and lowered her head. Her overlong hair fell in a straight black curtain around her face as her head lowered to only a few centimeters from the floor, her gaze concealed yet never leaving Sobehk’s form.
“That was graceful, finally.” Sobehk smiled tightly and raised his hand above his head. “What do I have in my hand?”
She flicked her gaze up without moving her head in any way. The mirror behind him showed her that he held one of Khan’s back-curved daggers. “A knife.”
“Describe it.”
“Black handled, eight centimeter live-steel blade, back-curved. One of ‘Syr Khan’s.”
“Good.” He released a deep breath and lowered his arm, setting the dagger on the table behind him. “At ease.”
Fallon sat back on her heels as smoothly as she was able, her hands placed where they were supposed to be, open-palmed on her thighs, elbows slightly out.
Sobehk nodded. “Very nice.”
Fallon released her breath and relaxed, a little. All this poise was a freaking pain in the ass.
“Stand.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sobehk leaned back on the thick sitting pillow, setting one elbow on the low table behind him. “Do you sing?” He unfolded his knees and extended his legs, crossing his slippered feet at the ankles. His movements were a little stiff, and his mouth tightened. It was obvious that he was tiring.
Sing? Fallon’s brows shot up as she knelt before him in the proscribed manner. Her gaze slid from his. She wasn’t supposed to look him in the eye anyway. “No, ‘Syr.”
“Play a musical instrument?”
She found herself frowning and worked to get it off her face. “No, ‘Syr.”
“Know any poetry?”
Poetry? Fallon’s fingertips bit into her thighs. What was this? “No, ‘Syr.”
“Dance?”
Fallon lifted her shoulder the tiniest bit. “Some, ‘Syr.”
Sobehk snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re classified as upuaht . You’d need intensive training to be a successful saysehn rehkyt .”
Intensive training? To be a decoration? Fallon felt the hair rise on her neck and had to fight the urge not to hunch down. He made it sound as though she wasn’t good for anything.
“I know you know knives ...” He rolled his eyes.
Knives? Fallon straightened immediately. Oh, bloody Fate, yeah! She bit back her comment. He hadn’t asked a direct question.
Sobehk tilted his head to the side and a smile kicked up the side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about swords?”
Fallon flinched before she could stop herself. “No, ‘Syr.”
“Would you like to?”
Fallon’s heart stopped, just for a second. She would kill to know how to use a proper blade like a real duelist. She looked directly at Sobehk. Screw manners. “I would love to learn the sword, ‘Syr.”
So
behk nodded and his smile widened. “As long as you continue to do well in your other lessons, I’ll see to your sword training as well.”
Fallon blinked. “You know the sword?” She flinched. He hadn’t asked a question. Too late now. “‘Syr.”
“Yes, he does indeed.” The doorway disappeared behind Khan. He moved toward them in a whisper of heavy robes. A small smile curved his lips.
Fallon jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard the door open.
Khan nodded toward Sobehk. “A’syr Sobehk was a very fine sword master before he ever became mahf’dhyt , an enforcer.” He smiled at Sobehk then raised his brow at Fallon. “He was my sword master at the academy.”
Sobehk rolled his eyes. “And a more stubborn student I never had in my life!”
Fallon tilted her head. Sobehk taught Khan?
Sobehk smiled. “At the time, my father was the headmaster at the school, and he thought the young lord ...” His gaze drifted toward Khan. “... would have an easier time dealing with someone closer to his age.”
“More like he thought a little humility would do me some good.” Khan curled his lip as he tugged at his over-robe. “Sobehk was already a master-level swordsman at a good three years younger than I.”
“You were master-level at other things.” Sobehk nodded at Fallon and tilted his head toward Khan.
Fallon nodded slightly. One of the things Sobehk had spent far too much time on was the intricacies of Skeldhi dress. She rolled to her feet and approached Khan.
Khan’s brows shot up. He glanced at Sobehk.
Sobehk smiled. “I thought I’d teach her something useful.”
Useful, my ass ...Fallon barely stopped herself from growling.
Khan dropped his hands and raised his chin. “Indeed?”
Fallon tugged at the twist-fastenings of his robes. She slipped behind him to draw the robe from his shoulders and folded the heavy fabric over her arm.
Khan stepped away. “How has her civilizing progressed?” He tugged at his robes and rolled down onto his knees, dropping onto a sitting pillow at the low table with an unconsciously graceful ease that made Fallon instantly envious.
Sobehk sighed. “We have the very basics, but I haven’t approached table manners yet.” He caught Fallon’s eye and nodded toward the wardrobe.
