by Luna Voss
“Here, you can hold it.” She hands it to me, and I take it from her cautiously.
“Wow, this thing is heavy. I think I prefer the bow and arrow.”
I hand the weapon back to her.
“So, how did you and Ragga meet?” she asks, putting the sword back on the wall.
“Well… I was the second Bride to be auctioned off. I don’t know who went before me.”
Cleo raises her hand. “That was me.”
“Oh. Well, now I know. Anyway, the Kyrzon who bought me was this major asshole named Lurkka. He was one of Chief Broga’s top lieutenants or something. The same day he bought me, the Broga warriors decided to attack Clan Drokal.” Recognition dawns on me as I’m talking. “Wait a second, that must have been you! Cleo, were you at the battle?”
She nods. “Yeah. Hard to forget. That was really scary. I was riding with Drokal at the front of our caravan when we got attacked. Anyway, you were saying?”
“Well, everybody was preoccupied during the battle, and I didn’t want to stay with Lurkka, so I ran off and escaped.”
Cleo’s eyes go wide with disbelief. “You escaped? In the middle of the Kyrzon wilderness? Where did you go? I can’t believe you survived.”
“I didn’t get far,” I admit. “Ragga was ordered to track me down. He captured me the next day.”
“And how did you go from that, to having a baby together?”
I blush slightly. “Ragga can be… persuasive, when he wants to be.”
“It sounds like you were the one who persuaded him,” Cleo says. “You must have really had an effect on him if he was willing to betray his clan for you.”
I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.
“Look at that smile on your face,” says Cleo, grinning at me. “I think you and Ragga are adorable together.”
“Thanks,” I say, blushing. “And it sounds like you’re pretty happy with Chief Drokal?”
Now it’s Cleo’s turn to blush. “If you went back in time to a week before our Auction Day, and you told me that I would be this happy being bred every night by Drokal the Kyrzon war chief…”
I can’t resist a giggle. “Well, it’s not like they told the Brides in New Sutter that these aliens were so… uh… well-equipped,” I say, my mind flashing to Ragga’s enormous girth.
“Maybe they should,” laughs Cleo. “Maybe they’d get some volunteers, instead of having to choose Brides through that damn lottery.”
* * *
After some more thoroughly enjoyable conversation with Cleo, the two of us head to the saloon to find Ragga. As we enter, the boisterous voices inside instantly go quiet, and every warrior lowers his head respectfully in Cleo’s direction.
“My queen,” several of them murmur.
“Drink your drinks,” says Cleo, laughing. “I’m hoping some day they’ll stop doing that,” she whispers to me quietly as we make our way through the saloon.
Ragga is sitting at the bar alone. He startles as I go up behind him and put my hand on his back.
“Not making any friends?” I ask, disappointed.
He shakes his head. “Are you ready to go?”
“I was hoping we would stay for dinner. Cleo has invited us to dine with her and Drokal.”
Ragga’s shoulders sag. It’s clear that he hasn’t been having a good time.
Affection for my mate rushes over me. I don’t want him to be miserable. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “We can stay for dinner next time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Over the next few weeks, Ragga and I continue to work on our little homestead. Ragga seems happy, and I guess I’m happy too, but I can’t stop thinking about my time with Cleo. Having another human for a friend, and the general sense of community that living in the Drokal capital would bring, appeals to me greatly. We’ve visited the Capital on a few other occasions since, and every single time it’s been great for me to spend time with Cleo, but Ragga has remained his sullen, disinterested self for the duration of every visit. It’s really been a drag.
“Our child is going to need to have friends,” I say to Ragga offhandedly as he works on the fence. “Are you wanting to bring him all the way to the Capital to socialize?”
“This is only temporary,” Ragga grunts, still focused on his work. “I still believe we should travel to Gurrak Territory.”
“Then why are you working on the damn fence?” I all-but yell, starting to lose my temper. “If you’re not even going to try to make friends in Drokal Territory, why are you even bothering with any of this?”
My barely-acknowledged frustration with the situation is beginning to boil over. Or maybe it’s just the sense of isolation. Apparently Ragga doesn’t mind living out here in the woods without any friends, but I need people in my life. And the fact that it isn’t safe for me to travel through the wilderness to see Cleo on my own is killing me.
Ragga stops working on the fence. He turns to look at me. “I’m doing this for you,” he tells me. “You said you wished to stay here for a while.”
“Ragga, I wanted to stay here long enough to find out if it would be a good place for us to settle and start our family. And it turns out, it is! We don’t need to keep looking. We don’t need to go to Gurrak Territory. I don’t understand what your problem with this is. They’ve been nice to us.”
“Except when they took us prisoner,” he growls.
I throw up my hands. “You took me prisoner! Ragga, people change! And their relationships change. They didn’t even know who we were when that happened. They’d just been attacked by Clan Broga. You can’t blame them for not trusting us.”
“Well, I still don’t like them. You’ve never been at war. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Is that it then? You’re never going to progress past petty tribal rivalries? In case you’ve forgotten, your old clan doesn’t even exist anymore!”
Ragga turns away, and before I know it, he’s stalking off into the woods. “I want to be alone,” I hear him say as his huge figure disappears into the trees.
I feel like crap. I want to kick something. I’m mad at Ragga for being so stubborn, but I also know I probably could have handled that discussion a lot better. For several minutes I walk in circles, unsure what to do with myself. I try doing some target practice with my bow, but I keep missing. I’m just too upset to shoot straight. Eventually, I go into our tent and lie down, trying to figure out why I feel so upset.
I need community. That’s what all of this comes down to. My whole life, I’ve been a loner, resigned to my fate as an alien’s breeder. Now I have the opportunity to have a family, and friends, and to be part of a culture where eventually, I might actually come to feel like I belong. The idea that Ragga’s inability to get over his old rivalries is preventing this is frustrating. I care deeply about my mate, but the idea of traveling even further, into the unknown territory of a strange clan who might not even accept us, makes no sense to me at all. Not when we have friends who are happy to take us in.
I want to talk to Cleo again. Normally, I wouldn’t dare to take the mile-plus-long journey to the Drokal capital without Ragga’s protection, but right now, I’m not thinking clearly. Grabbing my bow and a quiver of arrows, I set off.
It isn’t until I’ve been walking for a solid 15 minutes that my head starts to clear, and I realize that going into the wilderness alone might not have been the best idea. I glance around me nervously, eyes peeled for any sign of a predator.
I see nothing. And, I reason, I’m pretty sure I’m almost halfway there. There’s no point going back home now. I keep walking, my bow at the ready.
Eventually, and without incident, I reach the Drokal settlement. The Kyrzon villagers stare at me, unused to seeing lone humans, but no one attempts to interact. When I get to Castle Drok, I walk through the front door warily. No one stops me, so I proceed through the Great Hall to the turbo-lift.
I press the button that takes me to the upper level, and the doors close. As I wait
for the lift to take me to Cleo’s floor, I try to think about what I want to say. I’ve never been in the position of needing relationship advice before.
Relationship advice. Is that why I came here? The truth is, I don’t really know. I was just mad, and I left. I needed to move my legs, to do something with myself. Now that I’m here, I’m not really sure if I want to talk about it.
The doors to the turbo-lift open, and I step out into the hallway and walk over to the door that I remember being Cleo’s bedroom.
I’m about to knock, when I hear a sound that makes me freeze.
A groan. A deep, growling, animal groan.
And then a scream. Not a scream of pain, or of fear.
A scream of pleasure.
It sounds like Cleo and Drokal are busy.
For a moment, I hesitate, unsure what to do. I’m sure as hell not about knock, but I don’t know how else to occupy myself in the Drokal capital. It’s not like I’m just going to walk into the saloon and start drinking with all the warriors.
More pleasured grunts and screams. Louder, and then finally, trailing off.
Silence.
I guess they’ve finished.
I feel awkward as hell for having heard that, and even more awkward when I hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming to the door. I shrink to the wall, trying to make myself small, but there’s no way to hide.
The door opens, and Chief Drokal appears in all his bearded glory. He’s carrying a battle ax, and he appears to be out of breath. His eyes narrow as he sees me, and he looks confused.
“I— I’m here to see Cleo,” I stutter awkwardly.
He seems to consider this for a moment, and then nods, and walks to the turbo-lift without another word.
Okay. Good chat.
Wanting to be considerate, I give Cleo a couple of minutes before I knock on the door to the bedroom.
“Yes?” her voice comes through, sounding surprised.
“It’s Lily.”
I hear footsteps, and a moment later, she opens the door. Her hair is messy, and her cheeks are flushed.
“Lily! I didn’t know you were visiting. Do you want to do something together? Just give me a moment to fix myself up.”
“No problem. I just felt like hanging out.”
Cleo takes a moment to fix her hair, and then she comes out and takes me down the corridor in the other direction from the turbo-lift.
“I used to do this on the Ship in New Sutter,” she says, taking me up a ladder to the highest level, which seems to be for maintenance. She opens up a hatch, where there’s another ladder with a platform beneath it, and I follow her up to the roof of the ship. We sit at the very top on a big flat area, one that gives us a view of the entire settlement.
“How have things been with you and Ragga?” she asks. “Is he warming up to the idea of living here? I’ve talked to Drokal about it, and we have a plot of land in the city center that’s yours if you want it.”
I smile at my friend appreciatively. “Thank you so much,” I say. “It means a lot to me.”
My smile falters, and Cleo notices. She frowns.
“Is something the matter?”
I hesitate. “It’s just… Ragga really doesn’t want to live here. I think it’s because of the whole Clan Broga-Clan Drokal rivalry. He keeps saying we should leave and try to live somewhere else.”
“Hmm,” says Cleo. “That’s too bad. I guess I can kind of understand. After all, we did defeat his clan, kill his chief, and capture their territory. I imagine Drokal might be salty about that too if he happened to be on the losing end.”
“I don’t think it’s about loyalty to Clan Broga or anything like that. I don’t get the impression that Ragga even liked or respected Chief Broga very much. I just don’t think he trusts you. He’s seen friends of his die in battle with Clan Drokal. And it definitely didn’t help being locked up. He really didn’t like that.”
Cleo looks a little bit guilty. “I tried to convince Drokal to let you go right away,” she tells me, “but he wouldn’t free both of you. I thought it was really sweet how you chose to stay in your cell with him, by the way. For whatever it’s worth, I have a lot more power around here now. Nothing like that would ever happen again.”
“Could you guarantee it?”
She nods, her expression one of absolute confidence. “Absolutely. I’m the Queen.”
“I’ll tell Ragga that. And also about the plot of land. I hope you know how much I appreciate your help.”
“Of course,” says Cleo. “We humans have to stick together.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cleo and I walk together out the front door of Castle Drok. “Let me call you an escort,” my friend suggests. “I don’t want you walking back alone.”
“Thanks,” I say gratefully. I’d been dreading the return journey.
Cleo waves down a big, burly Kyrzon named Tam. “Tam, can you escort Lily back to her home and make sure she gets there safely?”
He nods. “Certainly, my queen.”
Cleo and I hug goodbye, and then Tam and I set off back to the home that I share with Ragga.
Tam isn’t much for conversation. Or maybe he’s just awkward being around a human woman. I imagine that both humans and women are things he doesn’t have a lot of exposure to.
“What is it like having Cleo as your queen?” I ask him as we walk, trying to make conversation.
“Queen Cleopatra is powerful and wise,” he says, and it isn’t a rote response. He seems like he really believes what he’s saying about her.
“Was it hard for her to earn the Clan’s respect? I don’t imagine human leaders are very common among the Kyrzon tribes.”
He shrugs. “She has the heart of a warrior. She has shown herself to be worthy of any Kyrzon’s respect.”
I’m about to ask another question, when Tam freezes, gesturing with his hand for me to do the same. I stay stock-still, fingers wrapped tightly around the wood of my bow.
Voices. Coming through the trees. Not moving in our direction, but past us. Heading the same way we are.
We creep forward, moving slowly so as not to make a sound, and it soon becomes clear that a troop of Kyrzon warriors is nearby. It’s hard to make out what they’re saying, but I can hear them talking to each other, their voices low and animated.
“There must be at least 20 of them,” Tam whispers. “Maybe more.”
“They’re not from Clan Drokal?” I whisper back.
“I would recognize them,” says Tam. “Besides, we have no patrols in this area. And a patrol would not include so many men.”
The voices grow louder. We stay hidden in the bushes as the group of warriors begins to file past us.
“I recognize one of them,” I whisper to Tam. “The leader. The one with the scraggly beard. That’s Lurkka of Clan Broga.”
I’m able to make out a snippet of their conversation as they walk past: “And what of Clan Drokal?” one of the warriors is asking Lurkka. “Their capital is very close to here. Do you not worry that Drokal will come to Ragga’s defense? They could have an alliance.”
Lurkka snorts. “If Ragga was aligned with Clan Drokal, he would be living in their capital, not miles away. No, I believe he will be an easy target. We will kill him quickly, and I will reclaim my woman. And then Clan Lurkka will rise.”
The warriors around Lurkka all grunt their approval of this idea. Tam and I watch as they pass by us and then disappear into the forest.
“We should go back to the Capital for reinforcements,” Tam says quickly.
“There’s no time. They’ll be at our homestead by the time you’ve gathered a party together.”
“Then what do you suggest we do? We can’t fight all of them off with just the two of us.”
“You go back. I’ll try to get there before them so I can warn Ragga.”
Tam looks reluctant to leave me. “I was ordered to escort you. I can’t just leave you alone.”
“Well, I thin
k this changes things a little bit, don’t you? You need to go gather soldiers from Clan Drokal.”
“Perhaps you should go back to gather soldiers, and I should warn Ragga. It would be safer.”
“Believe me, it’s going to be safer for everyone if the next person Ragga sees at our home is me, and not a Clan Drokal warrior. Tam, we don’t have a lot of time.”
He nods. “I will bring soldiers to your rescue as soon as I can. Be safe.”
With that, he turns around and begins to jog in the direction we just came from.
My adrenaline rising, I begin to run back to the homestead, hoping against hope that Ragga will be there, and that I’ll be able to arrive before Lurkka’s soldiers do. I rush through the trees, ignoring the sharp pain as the leaves whip against me. I have to get there in time.
* * *
I burst out from the bushes to our little homestead, completely out of breath. To my intense relief, Ragga is there, working on the fence.
“Ragga!” I call out to him. “We’re being attacked!”
He looks up and sees me. “We’re being attacked? What you mean?”
“It’s Lurkka,” I tell him. “He and a band of warriors are on their way here.”
Ragga immediately jumps to attentiveness, sprinting into our tent to grab his sword.
“How do you know this?” he asks me, his voice panicked as he emerges with the weapon.
“I saw them in the woods. About 20 of them. They should be here soon. I had to run to get here ahead of them.”
Ragga looks like he wants to ask me what I was doing out in the woods, but he doesn’t. There isn’t time.
“We need to get out of here,” says Ragga, grabbing my hand. “We can’t fight off 20 Kyrzon warriors.”
The two of us are about to escape into the woods, when we’re confronted by the unmistakable sound of a group of people approaching. We spin around just in time to see Lurkka and his group of soldiers stepping out of the woods maybe 50 feet away from us. They see us. Lurkka’s eyes narrow.
