Clan and Conscience

by Tracy St. John

  The enemies were closing in, and Ospar concentrated on keeping them at bay. He blinked the tears away that clouded his vision and made him miss far too many opportunities.

  He fought off the urge to pause. He was desperate to check on Jol. Did his torn and scorched chest continue to rise and fall with breath? Was his heart beating?

  Ospar screamed in frustration. The bastards who’d shot Jol wouldn’t let up. They wouldn’t allow him check the man he fought for, wouldn’t allow him half a second to determine if the Nobek lived.

  Ospar was running out of shots, but every time one of the murderous bastards showed his face, the Dramok’s finger held the trigger down. He blasted firepower indiscriminately, with no care for precision.

  Savage glee jostled for room with his inconsolable agony when he took out two of the enemy in quick succession. The momentary triumph disappeared as the remaining pair unloaded a barrage. Rock pinged, striking him and imbedding in his skin like shrapnel. Under too much fire to return any, Ospar crouched over Jol’s bloodied, still form, shielding the Nobek with his body.

  “Wait for me,” he whispered. “The end is coming soon, and I’ll be with you. Wait for me, Jol.”

  Powerful blasts sounded, explosions that shook the entire ground. They were too strong to be from handheld weapons. Did he dare to hope they came from shuttle-grade arms?

  Silence descended, a lack of sound so perfect that Ospar thought he had gone deaf for about three seconds. Another sound he recognized rose; the hum of shuttles flying through the air.

  A voice spoke, deep and booming with amplification. “This is Global Security. Lay down your weapons and surrender. You will not be warned again.”

  Seconds later, the military-grade blasters sounded once more, splitting the air twice. Ospar guessed the syndicate thugs had not indicated they would submit peacefully. Then there was nothing but the sweet hum of his saviors, the shuttles swooping closer, readying to land.

  Ospar forgot about them. He lifted himself from Jol, noting the warm, sticky blood seeping through his clothing. He couldn’t tell if the Nobek breathed or not, so he put his hand on the other man’s breast, searching for a heartbeat.

  “Jol? Come on, you pain in the ass, answer me. Jol? Jol?”

  Chapter 15

  Jol opened his eyes, wincing against the pain in his aching chest. Ancestors, it hurt to breathe. He stared at the bland white ceiling, a carousel of instruments hanging over him like a mad scientist’s chandelier. He was in a medical facility. As that knowledge dawned, he recalled the battle in the valley against the syndicate strongmen.

  He inhaled sharply, waking a greater, pulsing agony. Ignoring it, Jol tried to sit up and found he couldn’t. He was held by a stasis field.

  He could move his head, however, and he scanned his surroundings. Panic subsided as his frantic gaze locked on Ospar. The Dramok sat next to his medi-bed, his cheek pillowed on his forearms on the mattress pad Jol lay upon. Ospar snored softly, sleeping at the Nobek’s side.

  Jol smiled at the slumbering man. Except for some scratches on his face and arms, left bare by the short-sleeve shirt he wore, Ospar appeared unscathed.

  Relieved, Jol considered his own state of well-being. His inspected his bare torso. The brown skin was blackened with massive bruising. A livid red line in the middle of contusion showed where his flesh had split open where the blast had hit. If it hadn’t been for the armored vest he’d worn beneath his shirt, Jol would have died. He must have come near to doing so anyway.

  He remembered Ospar kneeling over him, trading fire with their enemies and begging Jol not to leave him. Jol contemplated the dozing Dramok again, the rush of adoration making it as hard to breathe as the agony he was in. He’d sworn to protect Ospar and had done so to the utmost of his abilities. He’d never expected his vow to be reciprocated.

  They’d both lived to tell the tale. Now, in the midst of rhythmically beeping monitors in the dimly-lit room, Jol mused over what might come next.

  His gaze lingered over the lines of the other’s face. In sleep, Ospar was as handsome as ever. Damn if he even appeared cute. Without the mask of calculated charm he wore most of his waking moments, Ospar veered close to the sin of adorableness. Jol would have laughed if he hadn’t hurt so much.

  Looking at him tightened Jol’s chest. He started to reach to stroke the Dramok’s hair, forgetting he was immobilized by stasis. Not being able to touch Ospar brought a pang of grief from out of nowhere.

  “Damn you,” Jol muttered at the unaware sleeper. “What have you done to me?”

  Despite speaking quietly, his words roused Ospar. The Dramok blinked awake and focused on Jol. Without moving from his pillow of crossed arms, he smiled. “Well, hello. It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the job.”

  Hating the strengthless voice that emanated from him, Jol said, “I expected to wake in the halls of the ancestors.”

  “You aren’t escaping me that easily.” The cocksure and irrepressible charm had returned, stretching Ospar’s expression in an insolent grin. The impression of cuteness dissipated.

  Jol grinned back. “I guess I’ll have to turn in my Nobek card. This little scratch is nothing I should be flat on my ass for.”

  “Don’t worry; your warrior status is far from uncertain. They had to shock you seven times to get your heart into rhythm. I must say, I was excited to learn you possessed that particular organ.”

  Jol gasped as the laugh that insisted on being voiced brought a violent stab of torment. “No joking, you shit. Otherwise, I might die for real. Have my parents been informed of my condition?”

  Ospar checked the hour. “They left two hours ago to rest, after the doctors guaranteed you would survive.”

  “Did Talu and his army ever arrive, or were you that good?”

  “Both.” Ospar squared his shoulders and thrust out his chest.

  Jol nearly laughed again. He was going to kick the Dramok’s ass for putting him through the extra pain. “Quit it.”

  “Fine. Your Nobek father was beside himself that they didn’t reach us sooner. It wasn’t his fault. Axter insisted the matter was under Global Security’s jurisdiction, especially since he knew local law enforcement wouldn’t cross the syndicate. They had to wait for Global Security to untangle the red tape and move their asses.”

  “I bet Talu regrets not coming in on his own with Itga’s security.” Jol deliberated the matter. “I’m glad he didn’t. That was a nasty fight, and I’d hate for any of the old boys to have bought it on my account.”

  “He’s pissed off. So am I. I’m threatening a lawsuit.”

  “Against Global Security?”

  “You better believe it.” Ospar made a face. “I held nothing back when it came to serving up a big plate of verbal abuse to the branch commander and his team for nearly killing you with their delays.”

  “That’s my Ospar, always making friends.”

  “Ha! I rubbed their faces in my poor opinion of them by congratulating Talu, Axter, and Golas for doing their part of the job so well. Especially your father. I believe my exact words were, ‘Nobek Talu, you are the perfect example of how a dedicated security guard outshines the most highly trained force in the Empire. How a courageous man chooses action over cowards hiding behind paperwork.’ I made the whole speech in front of the Global Security team.”

  “Mother of All, Ospar. Don’t ostracize law enforcement when you need them against the likes of the syndicate.”

  Ospar kept talking as if Jol hadn’t spoken. “I was in fine form, going beyond the call of duty when it came to giving profanity-laced offense. I think I could have got myself arrested, except the Global Security twits realized there were too many witnesses to abuse me. It was epic.”

  Jol squeezed his eyes shut, horrified and amused all at once by Ospar’s unrepentant bullying. “You refuse to be easy to get along with, don’t you?”

  “All it takes is everyone agreeing that I’m always right. You’ve learned that lesson, have
n’t you?” Jol snorted. “Never going to happen.”

  “Well then, I guess we’ll continue to be at odds.” All at once, Ospar’s bravado vanished, and he looked at Jol with a softness that jarred the Nobek. “You scared the hell out of me, you know. I thought you were dead when help finally arrived.”

  Jol tried to touch him again, once more forgetting he was unable to. He cursed. “As you said, I’m not escaping that easily. Nor do I want to. Take this field off me so I can sit up and kiss you, you maniac.”

  Ospar’s gaze lit, but he shook his head. “You aren’t allowed to twitch. No straining that poor heart of yours until the doctors are satisfied you won’t suffer cardiac arrest.”

  “Then lean down here. I need that kiss.”

  Ospar did so, far too carefully for Jol’s preference. It was still enough to encourage his cocks to spasm. And it reassured him that the Dramok was indeed there, that this wasn’t some death hallucination telling him that everything was going to be okay.

  Ospar sat back in his chair, looking outrageous with joy. “I have a crazy idea.”

  Jol crooked a brow at him. “As opposed to—?”

  “Ha, ha. When you’re up and able, move in with me. Let’s see if we can make this mess between us work. “

  Jol’s traumatized heart skipped a beat, and then steadied once more. “You and I in a committed relationship is sheer madness. We’ll end up strangling each other.”

  “Perfect. I love romantic stories with tragic endings.”

  The spate of humor made Jol’s chest ache again. “Damn it, I told you not to make me laugh.”

  “I’m serious. I want to find out if you and I could be something permanent. Because I feel it could be. We won’t know for certain unless we prove we can live with each other.”

  Jol gazed at him. Ospar appeared earnest, for once with no sign of a hidden agenda.

  My Dramok. Jol let the term float in his brain, trying it on for size. Was it possible they could have an eventual clanship? As Ospar had said, there was one way to find out.

  “I’ll live with you, but only because I’ll permit no other Nobek’s hands wrapped around your throat.” He winked and then spoke more seriously. “You’re right on all counts. We should give ourselves the chance to discover if we have what it takes to be together.”

  Ospar beamed. “Perhaps we’ll survive each other. Maybe the empire will too.”

  He stood to kiss Jol again, with more intent than before. Jol’s cocks took notice of the passionate embrace—and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

  I’ve gone insane. But there was no doubt Jol wanted Ospar. And who knew? It might turn out to be something he could put up with forever.

  Chapter 16

  The priest walked with purpose towards his consultation chamber, his robes whispering as he moved. He glided through the temple carved from several chambers in the Tosli Caverns of Wenza Territory. He nodded to novices and other masters he passed, offering greetings to those who didn’t appear lost in contemplation.

  Though it was important to be present in the here-and-now, the temple’s youngest master could understand losing concentration on such a day. Cool air flowed from the outside into the cavern’s many chimneys, cracks, crevices, and wider openings. Autumn was making its presence known in the region. It was refreshing after the hot, muggy summer.

  It was especially notable as he passed through a larger chamber. It was a space in which the roof was nonexistent, open to the clear sky above through which a small waterfall entered the basin at the far end. He lifted his face to enjoy the waft of crisp breeze through his knee-length sheet of hair. It rippled against his blue, silver, and brown robes, and he inhaled the outer world’s perfume with appreciation. After his meeting, he would step outside and enjoy the afternoon. As the Book of Life advised, Though the duties of life must be performed, one can’t ignore the duty to his own serenity.

  He passed from the open-air chamber with regret. Promising himself a long walk outside later, he navigated the rocky labyrinth of corridors.

  Master Nago stood a few feet from the consultation room’s door, waiting for him in gray, blue, and green robes, his calf-length hair braided at the temples as was typical of the priesthood. He bowed at the younger master’s approach. “On time as always, Master Rivek.”

  “Have they arrived?” Rivek’s voice flowed like the cool air through the caverns.

  Nago’s calm demeanor rippled, the crease between his brows deepening for an instant. He was seven years older, but much less experienced. “They’re waiting for you.” He hesitated and added in an undertone, “I’m glad Master Adub chose you to step in for him for this appointment.”

  Rivek tilted his head as he regarded the other priest. “Is there a problem?”

  Nago sighed. “You’ve never heard a pair argue so. They don’t seem to agree on anything, and they miss no opportunity to insult each other.”

  Rivek drew a breath. “An arranged clanning perhaps. Thank you for getting them settled for me.”

  Nago returned his bow and left, his robes rustling as he went. Rivek proceeded to the open door of the consultation chamber. He paused out of sight of the two men he was to meet with.

  Typically, Rivek would not have eavesdropped on a private conversation. However, if the union was unhappy, understanding the nature of the issue might allow the priest to help them—or at least he could advise Adub about the matter, should the senior master be unaware there was a problem.

  A raspy tenor spoke, its tone aggressively impatient. “It was your father’s idea.”

  Another man’s voice answered, so deep that it gave Rivek a delightful shiver. “All he suggested was for Master Adub to conduct the ritual. He didn’t say a fuss had to be made. Ancestors forbid your clanning ceremony not be crammed with pomp and circumstance.”

  “It’s not just about me. It’s about me being the director of Itga, a major part of the business community. I have an image to maintain.”

  “Of an ostentatious asshole? Trust me, no one would mistake you for anything else.”

  Taking that as his cue to enter before things became more heated, Rivek stepped into the room in a hurried swirl of robes. Two handsome men, whom he judged to be close to his own age, jerked at his arrival. They jumped to their feet to return his bow.

  It was hard to decide who to look at first. The smaller of the two had a devilish but charming grin, which replaced the stormy glare leveled at the other man. His blue and black clothing was simple, but well-cut—the kind of garb that was expensive for all its understated appearance. His outfit wasn’t what captivated Rivek, however. It was that bright demeanor that promised immediate friendship, the twinkling eyes that radiated warmth.

  The other man was no less entrancing. Striking, powerful, he possessed a lethal aura that accelerated the Imdiko priest’s pulse. A vivid streak, some recent injury, blazed up his chest left bare by the shirt that hung open halfway down his carved torso.

  Such a tantalizing pair. They looked beautiful together. It was a shame that they sounded as if they disliked each other.

  He told them, “Good day, Dramok, Nobek. I am Master Rivek. I am here on Master Adub’s behalf. He apologizes for being too ill to finalize the plans for your ceremony, but promises to recover his strength in time for the rite.”

  The Dramok’s face beamed. His allure was as charismatic as his companion’s was dangerous. “I hope he’ll feel better soon.”

  Rivek couldn’t fight answering that beguiling expression with a smile of his own, though a cynical thought occurred. In my experience, men who grin that way are pure trouble.

  Fortunately, this was a consultation on Master Adub’s behalf, nothing Rivek would have to deal with longterm. He consulted his handheld for the file the elder priest had provided and said, “Please, be seated—Dramok Ospar? Nobek Jol? We’ll finish the arrangements so you can go on with your day.”

  Rivek sat on a pillowy cushion, crossing his legs and placing his handheld on th
e small table. Nago had provided cups of water. The plate of filled pastries offered for such meetings was already empty. The Nobek had probably polished them off within seconds, Rivek guessed. That breed always seemed hungry.

  Before long, they were discussing the details of what promised to be a grandiose affair. Rivek read off the catering list. “We have confirmed a delivery of three hundred seventy-five ronka meals, one hundred four pilchok meals, seventy-two rizpah meals, five hundred cases of leshella, along with the deluxe appetizer and sweets spread from Ega Revli Catering.”

  “Excellent. The largest chamber will be available for the reception?” Ospar gave him an appealing look.

  “Indeed. The planner has taken measurements and will be contacting you about the particulars when it comes to decorating and seating arrangements.”

  “The lighting?”

  Jol stared at his clanmate, disbelieving. “It’s an open-air cavern, Ospar. Are you going to demand the sun do something special for you too?”

  Ospar’s captivating smile dimmed. He glared at the Nobek sitting next to him. “My parents work in the deep mines of Rokan. They aren’t accustomed to so much sunlight.”

  Rivek told them. “We have shades that can be placed over the cavern to lessen the glare.” He didn’t miss the smug sneer Ospar shot Jol, or how the Nobek rolled his eyes. Rivek tapped on his handheld, adding the roll-out shades to the list of preparations. What was the pair’s home life like?

  Reminding himself it was an issue for Adub to address, he moved on to the specialized details. “I have here a notation about security posts?”

  Jol nodded. “We’ll provide the security, but it would be beneficial if we had say, two—ah, make it four computer podiums. And may I post surveillance cameras at the temple’s entrances for that day? Quietly. No one need know they’ve been mounted.”

  It was on the tip of Rivek’s tongue to ask why in the world two men as young as Ospar and Jol needed such protections. Then a half-remembered news story he’d heard months ago clicked into place. The name ‘Ospar’ had been spoken enough that Rivek, who cared nothing for news vids and even less about scandal, had noted the name. And hadn’t he overheard them mention Itga Mining before walking in?