The Vestal's Steward

by Ailx Nichols

  His mouth thinning, he leaned back and turned to the viewport.

  Haysi was aware of how he might’ve interpreted her response.

  Under normal circumstances, she would’ve told him about the heartbreaking testimonies she planned to read to Chief Ultek. She would’ve told him about the letters of support she’d collected, including from local healer vestals.

  Reverend Goyyem and her order were willing to provide palliative care, as well as room and board for the infected girls. All the police had to do was keep tabs on them. If Chief Ultek told Lord Boggond his men would check on the girls regularly, making sure they didn’t go back to Lanterns, there would be no reason to keep them behind bars. The bill could be revoked or, failing that, amended.

  It went without saying, the harlots would pay for the healers’ care and for the cops’ time. The Lanterns Collective had opened a common pot, and everyone was happy to contribute as much as they could. Mother Vada had pledged a hefty sum.

  Haysi would’ve told Iyatt all this if it hadn’t been for the way he’d asked his question. The insinuation in it and the edge in his tone had made her hackles rise.

  He turned to her, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, shut it again, and stared at the opposite wall.

  She gazed out the viewport.

  The steady hum of the ship’s engines grew to a rumble.

  “We’ve come out of N-space and are orbiting Norbal now. We’ll be decelerating and landing soon,” the pilot’s voice sounded above her. “Buckle up!”

  Haysi checked her straps and braced herself for the shaking, which wasn’t too bad, fortunately.

  “I studied Rateh on Norbal a decade ago,” Iyatt said to her. “Medyx—he’s a classmate and a friend of mine—will pick us up at the spaceport.”

  She nodded without looking at him.

  “It’ll be late evening in Siy, the capital city, when we touch down,” he said. “Medyx will take us to his house. He wouldn’t hear about me staying at a hotel.”

  She furrowed her brow, a question in her eyes.

  “You’re invited, too,” he said, “but if you’d rather go to a hotel, I’ll completely understand. I’ll drop you off and pick you up tomorrow, once I’ve located Hommendis.”

  Excited as Haysi was to be traveling so far, she was also scared. This wasn’t just another district of Eia. It was a different planet, for Aheya’s sake! She knew nothing about their mores and customs.

  What if she made a mistake, said something offensive without realizing it, and got herself in trouble? What if she got lost in the unfamiliar city and ended up in a neighborhood even rougher than Lanterns? A neighborhood she didn’t know how to navigate?

  Of course, she could just stay put in her hotel room.

  But if she did, she’d miss an incredible opportunity to discover a new world. Her best option was to stick with Iyatt, who knew Norbal well and could show her around as they searched for Unie’s brother.

  “I’ll go with you to your friend’s place,” she said.

  He slumped in his seat with visible relief. “It’s settled, then.”

  He’d told Haysi he was pretty confident he could find the shifty knife thrower tomorrow morning. A friend of Iyatt’s who had trained with Hommendis while Iyatt attended the Rateh school had given him some good pointers.

  Twenty minutes later, the transport landed on Norbal.

  The spaceport was much bigger and better manned than Eia’s. They were greeted by polite officials whose uniforms read Customs and Border Police. The officials went through Iyatt’s and Haysi’s bags and patted down both of them.

  “They’ve seriously ramped up security since my time here,” Iyatt whispered to Haysi. “I wonder why.”

  One of the police officers pointed to Iyatt’s shirt. “Will you please lift it, sir? I need to see your back to be sure.”

  “Of what?” Iyatt asked.

  “A modified cyborg was apprehended in Siy last night after a drunken brawl in a bar,” the officer said. “Our orders are to check everyone for wings. If you have them, an expert will evaluate if you’re a regular bionic or a modified one. If you don’t have wings, you’ll be free to go.”

  “You, too, my dame,” a female cop said to Haysi. “Please show me your back.”

  Without discussion, Haysi pulled the hem of her top high enough for the police to ascertain the absence of wings.

  “If the man were a modified cyborg, he would’ve resisted arrest,” Iyatt said. “He would’ve gotten away.”

  “We have bionics on the police force here on Norbal. They aren’t weaponized or hived, obviously, but they’re good. Besides, the hive cyborg was outnumbered. And, he was drunk.” The customs officer pointed to Iyatt’s shirt. “Please lift it, sir.”

  His jaw tightening, Iyatt hitched his shirt up, revealing a broad, deliciously muscled back. He had no wings, but he did have something that made Haysi gasp with surprise.

  Large colorful tattoos covered every inch of his skin as far as she could see. They were garish—the work of an artist who hadn’t heard of “less is more.” He or she certainly knew how to ink, but they suffered from a singular lack of good taste. The tattoos were such a stark contrast to who Iyatt was, to the image Haysi had formed of him, that she couldn’t stop staring until he yanked his shirt back down.

  “What happened to the arrested hive cyborg?” Iyatt asked the officer.

  “I believe he’s being detained until we get more information on who he is and why he’s come to Norbal.”

  When the officials wished them a lovely stay, Iyatt grabbed his and Haysi’s bags and headed toward the exit. Quickening her pace, she caught up with him, her mind buzzing.

  The patterns on his back… the words running down his spine… they had a special significance. She’d seen them before. They made her think of—

  “Convicts,” Iyatt said without looking at her. “Four years of correctional labor in lightstone quarries.”

  “I see.” She glanced at him expecting details or an explanation.

  Instead, Iyatt gave her an icy look, which conveyed he had no intention of providing any.

  Ten

  They hadn’t seen each other in ten years, but Medyx had remained just as easygoing and upbeat as Iyatt remembered him.

  Tamma, his wife of six years, and their little girl were cut from the same cloth.

  “You must be famished!” Tamma nudged them toward the dining table as soon as they’d entered the house, dropped the bags in the guest room, and freshened up. “Iyatt, darling, Madyx tells me you’re a fan of Norbalsh pork pie, so I made it for you.”

  Iyatt thanked her profusely.

  “I hope you like it, too, darling,” Tamma said to Haysi. “But if you don’t, there’s plenty of other food to eat. Please, dig in!”

  Throughout the dinner, Tamma and Madyx tactfully avoided mentioning Unie. It pained Iyatt that his friends had assumed he’d moved on so quickly, but it suited his purposes. They’d also assumed Haysi was his lover. He didn’t disabuse them of that notion. It was easier to have them think he’d come here to show Norbal to his new girlfriend than to confess they had a mission he’d rather not discuss.

  Afterward, Tamma led them to the guest room where Haysi and Iyatt were to sleep that night and tomorrow night before heading back to Hente.

  Iyatt hoped it would turn out the hive cyborg they’d been told about wasn’t Derren. Unie had mentioned he’d be here with two others, so the odds were in favor of someone else being in custody. As it happened, the odds were also in favor of Derren leaving Norbal as quickly as he could to avoid arrest. But Iyatt chose not to dwell on that possibility.

  There was no point in guessing. He’d know for sure tomorrow.

  What preoccupied him more right now was the prospect of spending two nights in the same room with Haysi. He knew he wouldn’t try anything stupid. That was a given. But recalling his reaction to her dance, he suspected he’d have a hard time falling asleep.

 
; He glanced at her. Hopefully, she’d have the decency to change into her nightshirt in the bathroom.

  Opening her satchel, Haysi fished out a white garment, marched to the adjacent bathroom, and closed the door behind her. Iyatt let out a sigh of disappointment-streaked relief. He changed into his nightclothes and stretched out on the rug across the room from the couple bed his hosts had laid for them.

  Unlike his native Hente, Norbal didn’t believe in abstinence.

  To each their own, Iyatt told himself.

  That was how he’d handled the differences between this world and his own during his two years here. Norbal embraced level-two tech, which Iyatt thought was a good thing. But he didn’t approve of the local temple’s view that the “archaic” precepts in the Book of Xereill could be dispensed with as a vestige of a different time. To Iyatt, religion was all or nothing, not pick and choose.

  But he was a guest here, and it was a guest’s duty to respect the local ways.

  “I love the way plumbing works here!” Haysi said, emerging from the bathroom. “No levers to pull or pedals to operate. All you have to do is hold your hands out over the sink!”

  Contrary to his fears, her nightshirt was decorous. Made from nontransparent material with a loose cut, it reached her calves. Except… he suspected she was naked beneath it. Having seen her infinitely enticing body in the brothel’s show hall, his mind’s eye readily pictured her every curve.

  “The shower works the same way,” he said, averting his eyes. “You step into the stall, and warm water pours all over you.”

  “Oh, goodness! I can’t wait to try it tomorrow morning!”

  Her delight was so sweet he went on to tell her about a few more wonders of Norbalsh life. He even promised to show her some of them while they were here.

  “Are you going to sleep on the floor?” She pointed to the rug under him.

  “Yes, why?”

  “No mattress or blanket?”

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “the bed has only one of each.”

  “Both big enough for two.”

  “I won’t—”

  “Listen to me, Samurai!” She cocked her head. “I may be a decadent Lanterns bird, but tonight I’m tired and not in the mood for anything. Besides, you’re too prudish and stern for my liking.”

  Prudish?

  He squinted, inexplicably rattled, even if he knew he had no reason to be. He was prudish and stern. He took pride in it.

  “What I’m saying,” she continued, “is that this bed is very wide. Both of us can sleep in it comfortably without touching.”

  He sized up the generously proportioned couple bed. “You’re not entirely wrong…”

  “Is that samurai speak for ‘You’re absolutely right, Haysi, and I’m being stupid planning to spend the night on the cold, hard floor without as much as a blanket’?” She climbed onto the bed and scooted to the wall, leaving him plenty of space.

  He crossed the room, flicked off the power candle, and slipped under the blanket, shifting closer to the edge of the bed.

  “See?” Haysi stretched her arm over the space between them. “Still not touching! Do you mind if I dash upstairs to invite Tamma and Medyx to join in? It’ll be cozy.”

  Glancing at him, she burst out laughing.

  He silently thanked Aheya he’d turned off the power candle. In the pale moonlight, one could hope Haysi wouldn’t notice that his face was on fire.

  “You should… you should’ve seen… you should’ve seen the sca… You should’ve seen the scandalized look on your face,” Haysi managed between two silvery peals. “It was a joke, Iyatt!”

  He had to admit she possessed the most infectious, most genuine, most beautiful laughter he’d ever heard.

  When Haysi’s hilarity died down, they lay in silence for a while staring at the ceiling.

  “Why Rateh?” She turned onto her side. “Why not the more common wrestling? Or something else entirely?”

  He turned on his side, too, and surveyed her face for a long moment, mesmerized by the glow of her skin in the shimmer of moonlight.

  “It’s my kagai,” he said in the end.

  “Ka—what?”

  “Kagai,” he repeated. “It’s another Terran Heritage concept, brought to Xereill along with their martial arts. The name ‘kagai’ may be distorted, of course, just like Rateh.”

  “What does it stand for?”

  “One’s purpose in life.”

  Sweet Aheya, she’s beautiful.

  He forced himself to focus on her question. “When you find something you’re good at, and if you happen to love doing it, and if you can be paid for it, and if that something can also help others, then you’ve found your kagai.”

  “Can one’s purpose in life be only one of those things?”

  “All four conditions must be united.”

  Her big eyes shone with excitement. “It’s like when you have this feeling you were born to do what you do.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, your kagai is Rateh. I wonder what mine is…” She rubbed her chin. “Hmm, it’s a tough one.”

  “Deep inside, you probably know.”

  She smiled. “Can kagai be two things? I can’t decide if mine is belly dancing or tattoo art.”

  “Belly dancing,” he blurted before he could catch himself.

  Shit. Why had he picked the thing about her he disapproved of most?

  Her smile widened. “So, you admit I’m good at it.”

  “I never denied it.”

  He knew he was now staring at her in a way that was inappropriate, improper even. This wasn’t like him at all. He knew he should avert his gaze. But he couldn’t.

  Slowly, the mirth in Haysi’s eyes gave way to something else. It was intense, visceral. Her pupils grew bigger. Her eyes darkened, raking over his face.

  She’s aroused.

  Iyatt’s heart froze then pounded. He lay still, afraid to move as much as a finger, every muscle of his body tense with want.

  Her hand went to her neck. “You haven’t seen the tattoos I do. If you had, you might’ve chosen differently.”

  “I’ve seen the drawings in the parlor,” he said, half surprised he’d been able to formulate a coherent sentence. “They’re pretty.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And this snaking bracelet, too.” He pointed to the elaborately woven chain inked around her left wrist.

  He touched it with the tips of his fingers before locking his eyes with hers.

  Pull your hand away. Get up from the bed, now. Get out of the room, for Aheya’s sake!

  Haysi’s chest heaved. “You think belly dancing is my kagai, huh? Why?”

  Iyatt didn’t answer. He hadn’t even understood the question. All he could think of was her body next to his. Her neck. Her face. Her lips.

  She moved a little closer.

  He lay stiff with alarm—and excitement. His blood ran hot and thick in his veins. His heart pounded like crazy, pumping it.

  Those lips… So close… Forbidden… I can’t…

  She inched a little more toward him and parted her lips.

  Something snapped inside Iyatt. His mind fogged to the world, to everything that wasn’t this woman next to him, her beautiful skin, her incomparable scent, her parted lips. Angling his body, he buried his nose in her soft hair. His hand went up to her neck and then her cheek and stayed there. She cupped his face with her hand.

  Lifting his head, he eyed her mouth before pressing his lips to it. The joy of that touch made his body sing. As she clasped her hands on either side of his face, he thrust his tongue into the depths of her mouth. Haysi’s eyes fluttered shut.

  He closed his, too.

  Denied the sight of her, his other senses focused more. He savored her touch, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her tongue dancing with his, the smoothness of her skin under his fingers.

  Iyatt had never allowed himself to kiss Unie like this. Too erotic, too sexual. He hadn’t kissed the lovers h
e’d had before her in this way, either. Too intimate, too passionate.

  This was a kiss reserved for the marital bed. Yet, he was enjoying it with Haysi. Not merely enjoying—he was savoring it.

  And he wanted more.

  Releasing her cheek, his hand dropped to her hip, and his fingers caught the hem of her nightgown. He pulled it up. She helped him, lifting her body off the bed. Frenzied, he hitched the hem up to her belly, her waist, her breasts, her armpits. He didn’t dare to push farther.

  Not yet.

  Instead, he slid his hand down again and pressed his palm to her hip. She was naked beneath her gown, just like he’d thought. His hand rubbed and caressed her hip and her belly.

  She moaned softly into his mouth.

  He burned to touch her most secret place, but again he didn’t dare.

  Releasing her lips, he bent down and closed his mouth over her left nipple. While he suckled her, he fondled her other breast and rolled its nipple between his fingers. Her nipples hardened, driving him wild with need.

  Her breaths shaky, Haysi arched into his touch and into his mouth, making incoherent little sounds. His member strained, engorged and hungry for her.

  Finally, he drew back and slid his hand away from her breast. Opening his eyes and pushing the blanket to the side, he treated himself to the vision of her.

  She stared back at him, unabashed. Unlike the other women he’d known, she wasn’t coy about her desire, didn’t try to hide how much she yearned for him. There was no artifice in her gaze, just molten want.

  The high it gave him was almost unbearable. He sat up, about to pull his nightshirt over his head.

  What are you doing?

  He froze. The world that had receded from his consciousness had come back. It had hurtled at him and crashed into his chest, robbing his lungs of air.

  Have you no shame?

  Unie had died only four months ago, her spirit still lingering in Middleworld. What if she was here in this room now? What if she was looking at him?

  And there was the despicable request he’d made of Unie. If ever she’d consented, there was a possibility that the woman whom he’d just kissed would be gone, her body a hollowed shell occupied by another.