Unbound

by Evangeline Anderson

  “I should love to dance,” she said, trying to smile up at him.

  The Sovereign’s thin red mouth twitched upward in something like an answering grin—only it looked to Brynn more like a grimace. Goddess above what was wrong with his face? It was so oddly proportioned and his features seemed to move independently of each other. His right eyeball twitched and rolled while his left stared straight ahead into hers, though she had the oddest feeling it couldn’t see her from either one.

  “Come then. Let us participate in the ritual,” he hissed, taking her hand in his.

  Brynn had an almost insurmountable urge to rip her hand out of his grip and scrub her palm against her skirts to cleanse it. Touching him was repellant—holding his hand made her feel the same way she would if someone had compelled her to hold a dead animal or a many-legged insect in her palm.

  Grimly, she fought the urge to get away and allowed the Sovereign to lead her onto the dance floor. Lords and Ladies of the Court were performing a stately two step which didn’t look hard to learn, even to the convent-trained Brynn.

  Not too hard—just a step to the left, a step to the right, the gentleman places his hands on the lady’s waist and they both hop once in place, then repeat the whole process—all in time to the music. We should be able to manage fairly well, she thought.

  However, Sovereign X’izith soon proved that dancing was not his talent.

  He took Brynn in his oddly stiff arms and lifted his knees comically high with each step he made. When he hopped, he bounded straight up in the air—three feet at least. And since his hot, filthy hands were clamped around Brynn’s waist in an iron grip, he took her with him, up toward the arched ceiling like a ship shooting for the moon.

  Brynn shrieked breathlessly—she couldn’t help it! The sudden lift-off startled her and she grabbed for X’izith’s upper arms, expecting to feel his biceps under her hands. Instead, her seeking fingers found what felt like hard, dry sticks inside the sleeves of his elegant shirt. No muscle—no skin or flesh of any kind that she could feel. Just those strange sticks.

  “What…who…” she began breathlessly when they landed. But then Varin was there, elbowing his way through the dancers to glare at her new suitor.

  “How dare you frighten the Princess?” he growled, glowering at the other male. “She’s a lady—you can’t go jerking her around like a stuffed doll!” He looked at Brynn. “Are you hurt, Mistress?”

  “No, thank you, Varin. I am well,” Brynn replied rather breathlessly. She could see her Lady-mother the Queen gesturing angrily from the dais. If Varin didn’t leave quickly he was going to be in trouble.

  “My apologies,” buzzed X’izith. “I was simply attempting to participate in this mating ritual. However, there is no need for rude behavior.”

  “Be more careful with the Princess,” Varin warned him, his voice a deep, menacing growl. “I am her personal guard—if you hurt her—if you so much as put a single scratch on her delicate skin—you answer to me.”

  X’izith bristled. “Perhaps my answers are not ones you would care to hear.”

  “I’ll be happy to have a question and answer session with you any time, Sovereign.” The big Kindred seemed to grow even larger and more menacing as he glared at her suitor.

  “Varin!” Brynn hissed and cut her eyes towards the royal dais where both her parents were staring angrily. “You’d better go now,” she told the big Kindred.

  “Very well.” He gave her a curt bow and looked at X’izith again. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Then he wove his way through the dancers—most of which had stopped dancing to watch the juicy drama unfolding between the Princess, her rich new suitor, and her personal slave who happened to be the most famous Arena warrior on Galen.

  But then the King waved at the musicians and another dance started—this one much slower—a stately pavane where the Lords took their Ladies in their arms and held them close for the long, sweeping movements.

  X’izith did better at copying the dance this time, though his motions were still very jerky. When he pressed Brynn close to him, she had to force herself to lay her head against his chest, as all the other ladies were doing with their partners.

  Though the idea of the dance was the rather romantic notion that the lady would listen to her partner’s heartbeat and move in time with it, Brynn could hear no internal pumping in X’izith’s strangely brittle-feeling chest. Again she felt no flesh at all—it was like leaning her cheek against a wooden chest—a hollow one.

  He had a strange smell too—a sweet, meaty odor that reminded her of something, though she couldn’t remember what. The cloying stench was deeply unpleasant and Brynn found she had to stop breathing through her nose in order to keep from gagging. His hot hands on her bare back made her skin crawl as he jerked her around the dance floor with each twitching step. Goddess above, would this dance never end?

  “Ah, this is most pleasant. Most enjoyable,” X’izith proclaimed, as the pavane finally drew to a close with the Lords and Ladies clapping politely. “And now, Princess, let us take a walk in the luminescence of your planet’s natural rocky satellite and become better acquainted—shall we?”

  “You mean you want to take a walk in the moonlight?” Brynn looked up at him and saw that it was the left eye staring at her this time, while the right eye twitched and stared off into space.

  “Yes, if it suits you.”

  Brynn had an idea he was trying to get her alone outside on the palace grounds, which absolutely wouldn’t do. But there was a broad balcony off of the main ballroom which was bathed in moonlight—maybe that would appease him.

  “This way,” she said and led him—without taking his hand because she just couldn’t make herself touch him again—through the crowd and out onto the broad stone balcony.

  “Delightful…delightful,” X’izith declared, both purple eyes rolling independently of each other now. Did he have some kind of condition, Brynn wondered. Some sickness that caused his eyes to act in such a strange way or was it simply part of his physiology?

  “Yes, the moonlight is lovely,” she said, trying to keep a little distance from him without appearing rude.

  “It is so much easier to see out of the blinding interior glare.” Her suitor brushed his lank greenish-brown hair away from the sides of his head and tilted it this way and that. “At last I can get a proper look at you, Princesss.”

  His voice hissed on her title and he took a jerky step towards her, reaching out his hands as though to touch her. Even in the moonlight, Brynn could see the dirt crusted under each separate nail.

  “And I can look at you,” she said, forcing a smile as she took a step back. “Tell me, what are your people like, Sovereign X’izith?” She meant it as a pleasantry but his answer was very odd.

  “They are very many and always hungry.” His thin lips twisted in a rictus of a smile and a dribble of spittle ran from the corner of his mouth. He took another step towards her, his hands out-raised.

  Brynn remembered her Lady-mother’s orders that she should let her new suitor take liberties and couldn’t stop a disgusted shiver from running over her nearly bare skin. Nor could she stop herself from taking another step back towards the relative safety of the ballroom.

  But X’izith stepped towards her again.

  “Forgive me, Princesss, but there are some things I wish to verify before I make you mine. Has your cloaca been previously pierced by a male’s barb?”

  “Excuse me, what?” Brynn started at him, uncomprehending.

  “Your female entrance…” X’izith seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Your vaginal canal—has it been penetrated by male organs of reproduction?”

  “Are…are you asking if I’m a virgin?” Brynn could hardly believe this conversation. It was deeply inappropriate and horribly improper. No gentleman would ever ask a lady such a thing!

  Of course she had discussed such matters with Varin but that was different—he was her friend, her p
rotector. The only male you really want to be with, added the little voice in her head.

  And besides all that, Brynn had asked the big Kindred for the information—had brought the subject up herself.

  The fact that she had known Sovereign X’izith less than an hour and he was already asking such personal and prying sexual questions made her feel intruded on and cheapened.

  But he either didn’t see or didn’t understand the look of disgust and disbelief on her face.

  “Yes, that is what I wish to ascertain,” he hissed. “If you are…virgin. Specifically, has the barrier within your vaginal canal been removed or is it intact?”

  “My…I…of course I’m intact!” Brynn gasped, stung into answering his horrible question. “How dare you ask me such a thing?”

  She had felt the little barrier within herself while playing with the tickle-teaser but had been extremely careful not to press on it, remembering Varin’s warning about causing herself bleeding or pain. Several times she had wondered how much it would hurt when her husband “removed” it during their wedding night, but quickly pushed the thought aside as too frightening to consider.

  “Ah…” X’izith twisted his head from side to side and the strange, stiff cape he was wearing, which never seemed to move, made a rustling noise. “So your barrier is intact. A pity. I had thought to fly you off to my ship myself at once. But this must be taken care of first.”

  “Fly me off?” Suddenly Brynn felt horribly exposed out on the low stone balcony which stuck out from the side of the palace. It occurred to her that someone in a low flying craft could swoop out of the air and nab her right off the balcony if they wished.

  Someone…or something.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw the poisonous barb of the huge insect-thing protruding from Amalthia’s chest while she screamed and screamed as it flew away with her…

  “Excuse me,” she said, her voice sounding high and frightened in her own ears. “I really…really must be going.”

  “Not yet, please.” X’izith approached her again. “I wish to ascertain the ripeness of your abdominal cavity and conjecture how much it can hold.”

  “What?” This time Brynn was certain she was hearing him wrong. “You want to what?” she demanded.

  “You are small—some might even call you a runt,” X’izith went on, oblivious to her horror and outrage. “But the skin of some fleshers is quite elastic. I wish to verify the fecundity of your cavity and the elasticity of your skin. It is of the utmost importance before I risk implanting the royal grubs with my breeding barb.”

  And then he was on her and pulling up the voluminous skirt of her pale gold gown. He moved with horrible swiftness his earlier, jerky motions had in no way hinted at and before she knew it Brynn felt his hot, dirty hands pawing at her thighs.

  “What are you doing? No!” she gasped, kicking out. She could tolerate his awful questions, she thought, but this was too much! This was horrible! “Get away from me—stop!”

  “Get your hands off her, you son of a bitch!”

  Varin was suddenly there, shoving the tall, spindly form of Sovereign X’izith away. X’izith fell on his back with a whistling, clicking cry, his arms and legs kicking oddly.

  “You will pay!” he hissed at Varin, as he struggled to right himself. “Your pain will be immeasurable for the insults you have visited upon me!”

  Varin ignored him. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” he asked Brynn.

  “No, he—I don’t know what he was trying to do, exactly.” She felt flustered and dirty and violated, like she needed a long, hot bath to scrub X’izith’s dirty fingerprints off her skin. “He was…he said something about the ripeness of my abdomen and royal grubs…and his…his breeding barb, whatever that is.” Brynn shook her head. “It was so strange.”

  “I know what it looked like he was trying to do,” Varin growled. He was so angry Brynn thought she could see little pinpricks of red in the centers of his pupils. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Kindred!”

  Suddenly her father and mother were sweeping onto the balcony and her father had a small silver remote in his hand.

  “Let’s see if a taste of the pain collar calms your insolence,” the King said. He pressed a button and Varin’s big, muscular body suddenly went rigid and then began to tremble. But still he tried to reach for X’izith, who had finally righted himself and was standing upright again at the other end of the balcony.

  “What are you doing?” Brynn flew to her father and tried to grab the remote out of his hand. “Stop it please, father! Varin was only trying to protect me! The Sovereign attacked me and he came to my aid!”

  “Attacked you, did he?” The King held the remote out of reach and glared at her, not looking at all convinced. “I very much doubt that. More likely you simply misinterpreted a gesture of affection.”

  “Was…feeling around…under her skirts…a gesture…of…affection?” Varin somehow managed to rasp out, his big body still tense. Brynn didn’t know how he could talk at all, wracked with pain from the awful collar he was wearing.

  “Silence, slave!” The Queen gave Varin a withering look. “It’s a good thing we decided to collar him, tonight,” she said to the King, as though talking about a vicious beast that couldn’t be trusted.

  “Indeed.” He nodded. “And using a collar with freeze mode was a good thought on your part, my dear.”

  “I thought it might be necessary. He’s grown entirely too attached to Brynnalla,” the Queen said, frowning. “It must be the Kindred Blood bond—it’s gotten entirely out of hand.”

  “Please,” Brynn begged. “Please, mother…father—can’t you understand that Varin was just keeping me safe? Please, father—stop hurting him!”

  “It’s not your slave you ought to be worried about but your suitor!” her mother snapped. She went over to Sovereign X’izith and put a hand to her heart, her eyes meltingly sincere. “Oh, Sovereign X’izith—I’m so sorry for this little misunderstanding. The Princess had her guard blood-bonded to her at birth—he’s a Kindred and they’re supposed to be excellent body servants. At the time, it was the latest thing and we thought it a good idea. However, he’s become a bit overprotective—I hope he didn’t hurt you?”

  “I am unharmed.” X’zith’s eyes rolled strangely in the moonlight but her mother didn’t appear to notice. “And you may rest assured, my interest in the Princess is undiminished by this small episode of violence.”

  Brynn’s heart sank at his words but the Queen seemed overjoyed.

  “Oh good!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “I’m so glad to hear it!”

  The King cleared his throat. “Perhaps we ought to go into my private accounting chamber and discuss the terms?”

  “What terms?” Brynn cried, staring up at her father. “Father, please—don’t I have any say in this at all?”

  “No!” her mother snapped. She motioned to the retinue of men at arms that had followed her and the King out to the balcony. “Guards—escort the Princess to her private chamber if you please. The ball is over for her.”

  “What about Varin?” Brynn cried. “Will you let him go?”

  “In a moment—when I feel he’s learned his lesson,” her father said coolly.

  Brynn wanted to protest but two burly guards already had her by the arms and were dragging her away.

  “Princess!” Varin ground out between gritted teeth, though he was still frozen to the spot.

  Before she could even cry out to answer him, Brynn was dragged ignominiously through the ballroom and back down the hall to her chamber. She was shoved inside, none too gently, and the door was slammed behind her.

  * * * * *

  It seemed like hours later—but was probably less than thirty minutes—when she heard a knock on her door. She rushed to it and saw Varin standing outside. He was still upright and unbowed but there was a terrible shadow in his bronze eyes—the aftermath of the pain he
’d been subjected to.

  “Oh, Varin!” Heedless for once of any possible prying eyes, she motioned him inside. “Are you all right? I was so worried!”

  “Never better, little one.” He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

  “I’m so sorry my father hurt you—he shouldn’t have done it! I want to take this off you right now.” She reached up to unfasten the thick black pain collar around his neck, only to gasp and cry out when a sharp electric shock burned her fingertips. “Ouch!”

  “Sorry, Princess…” He stepped back quickly. “I should have warned you—no one but the King or Queen can take it off. It’s keyed to their touch alone.”

  “But it’s not fair!” Brynn wanted to cry. “You shouldn’t have to wear it! You were just trying to keep me safe from that horrible Sovereign X’izith!”

  The big Kindred shrugged stolidly.

  “I’ve told you before I would bear any pain for you, Princess. I would repeat my actions, even knowing the King would use the pain collar on me.” His eyes flashed. “I couldn’t stand to see that bastard’s hands on you!”

  Brynn shivered. “I didn’t want them on me either! They’re so hot and his fingernails are filthy. But…” She swallowed, trying to get the words past the lump in her throat. “But I am very much afraid I’m going to be married to him.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right,” Varin said grimly. “I think your parents are discussing a bride price with him right now.” He frowned. “There’s something not right about that son of a bitch—he even smells wrong. Like half spoiled meat. And what the fuck is wrong with his eyes?”

  “They’re awful,” Brynn agreed. “Oh, Varin!” She sank onto the bed and put her head in her hands. “Varin, what am I going to do if my parents sell me to him?”

  “Apt choice of words, little one.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what you’ll do but I do know what we are going to do—we’re going to stick together. Because I’m going with you—even if it’s to the ends of the Universe.”