NO WORDS ALONE Page 7

  The old man looked pleased. “Do you have many suitors on your home world?”

  He liked to hop around subjects like a grasshopper around stones. Xera replied, “Er, no. I haven’t been home in a long while.”

  “Elsewhere?” he persisted.

  She stared at him. “I’ve been very busy, sir.” What with getting shipwrecked and all. She just hoped he wasn’t asking for his own benefit. Too late, she thought about inventing a man, but doubted it would be useful here. Long-distance relationships were not going to help. Judging by the incredulous or scoffing looks around her, business should have been no impediment to her love life.

  “It seems your captain was five times a fool,” Shiza said candidly. “Had you been on my ship—”

  “You may have been the one with the broken knee,” she interrupted in warning. Shiza held her eyes, for she had been very rude in so speaking. She didn’t back down, though. She couldn’t hear what he may have been about to suggest without fighting adrenaline.

  Ryven touched her shoulder, lightly. She stiffened as she met his gaze, but slowly the tension eased in her, almost as if he drained it.

  “You will not be harmed,” he said quietly. “You do not need to defend yourself from Shiza.” He looked at his friend, who relaxed back in his chair. His expression was still arrogant, but the man dropped the subject.

  Lord Atarus looked pleased. About what, she couldn’t guess, so Xera let her eyes fall on her drink. It made a useful distraction. She’d always had a hot temper, but few things sparked the full fury of it. No matter how tame they liked the women here, she just couldn’t hold her tongue over things like that without a beating. He should know better than to talk about women like that. She really didn’t like him.

  “I have appointments this afternoon. It would be best, Ryven, if you would settle your lieutenant at the palace. We will speak again later.”

  “She is hot tempered.”

  “When threatened, yes.”

  “Beautiful enough to keep a man home.”

  Ryven waited.

  “I will consider your request.” His father waited a moment, than added as if prompting him, “I am pleased.” He seemed slightly anxious, as if afraid his son would not do the thing he was hinting at, would not fulfill the wish the father had held for years now.

  Ryven just smiled. “As am I, father. I will see you again soon.” Their transport was waiting to take them to the palace, and he had already sent Xera and her escort down.

  Toosun smirked at him as soon as they were out of their father’s hearing. “It’s cruel of you to taunt him.”

  “It builds character,” Ryven said blithely.

  “You are going to do it, then?” Toosun asked too casually. Curiosity must have been burning him from the inside out.

  “Perhaps.”

  Toosun punched his arm playfully hard. “You may be the elder, but I can still beat it out of you.”

  Ryven smirked. “Do not distract me, younger. I have important plans to make.”

  Toosun just growled.

  When she had been told she was going to the palace, Xera envisioned a European castle or even something Arabic. She had not anticipated the mass of dark crystals thrusting themselves toward the sky like a black starburst. On approach it appeared windowless, bleak and without entrance. Monstrously huge, it towered for more than seventy stories and had to be a mile in diameter. It looked as if it had burst from the living rock.

  She drew a sharp breath in amazement. She’d never heard of anything like it. How did people live here?

  Their transport came in fast, revealing a series of unconnected crystal spikes before it slowed and rounded a last spire. A seemingly natural crevasse between crystals opened into an entrance that loomed larger the closer they got. It swallowed their craft into a tunnel lined with lights, like the glowing spots of some enormous underwater sea monster. Instead of into a dark stomach, however, the transport emerged into a sunlit shuttle bay. Xera couldn’t see the sky and it had been overcast outside, so it wasn’t immediately apparent how the area could be so well lit. She could easily see that the central shaft rose all the way to the ceiling, and as their craft rose up the different levels she could see shuttle bays on each.

  They were only a few levels from the top when their driver slowed and pulled into one of the bays. Perhaps she looked as dazzled as she felt, for Ryven looked at her and said in amusement, “Are you all right?”

  She blinked and reminded herself not to gush. Now was not a good time to look overwhelmed. “I…I’m fine. This is some place you’ve got here.”

  He smiled. “There is more to come.”

  She could hardly imagine. Ryven and Toosun got out, and she slid out after them, allowing Ryven to take her hand and help her. She barely noticed that he didn’t return her hand, that he tucked it into the crook of his arm instead. There were other transports parked there and people came and went from them, but not many. It was by no means crowded.

  Ryven led her to the exit. A glance back showed her aide and attendants supervising the unloading of Xera’s new things from the other transport. The hallways ahead were wide enough to let three people pass comfortably side by side, and decorated with Venetian splendor. The whole was filled with sunlight.

  “This can’t be true sunlight, can it?” she asked Ryven. “We’re inside a huge black crystal! It must be your technology that does this, but I wouldn’t know where I was if I hadn’t kept my eyes open.”

  His eyes gleamed with pleasure. “We are on the lord’s level. You’ll have a suite of your own for now. It should not take more than a day or two to have a decision made about your position. Meanwhile, I have time. I’ll show you around the palace after you’ve seen your room.” He stopped before a door and opened it. The first thing she noticed was the spaciousness; the second, the curving wall of windows looking out over a winter garden. As she got closer, she saw that the view was of ground level, an impossibility considering how high up they were.

  “It’s a hologram,” she said, somewhat disappointed. Very pretty, but no more real than a picture.

  He smiled and opened a balcony door. He reached out, scooped up a small handful of lavender snow and slipped it neatly down her shirt.

  Xera shrieked. Most of the melting lump slipped down her back, but some slid between her breasts and down her belly, then lodged against her sash, and she couldn’t get it off.

  Ryven glanced up at the attendants who poked their heads from her bedroom and they quickly disappeared. “Allow me,” he offered, and slid his hand into the back of her shirt to whisk away the offending snow. He didn’t fumble around while he was there, but then he didn’t have to. The feel of his hand sliding against her skin was enough to make her stiffen with shock.

  He tossed the remains of the snow outside. “As you can see, it is a real garden, helped along by a little technology. It is over one hundred years old.”

  Her brains were scrambled. She felt alarmed, but didn’t have time to analyze the source of it, if there was only one. The moment called for a reply, but the only safe one she could think of was a complaint. “My shirt is wet.”

  “You may change it if you like. I think they’re finished putting away your wardrobe.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

  Well, why would he? she thought as she stalked to the bedroom. He was a man, and men liked putting their hands down women’s shirts, even if he’d been rather circumspect about it. She didn’t care for the knowledge that he’d enjoyed it, though. She didn’t want to look at him in that light, didn’t want him to view her in a sexual sense. She wasn’t going to play with him. She was a “guest” here for who knew how long, maybe even the rest of her life. That’s what they’d said.

  The thought made her flinch. It didn’t help when her attendants looked at her with wide, questioning eyes.

  “I need a new shirt,” she said stiffly. “Lord Ryven got snow on mine.”

  Namae looked at her carefully. “You sounded
frightened, mistress.”

  Xera frowned. “I was…surprised. I didn’t expect him to be playful.”

  The others relaxed. Namae helped undo the stubborn sash and chose a cream and blue tunic to replace the damp one. At a quiet word from her, the others left. Namae solemnly looked into Xera’s eyes.

  “Yes?”

  Namae looked down thoughtfully. “You have had a very strange meeting with our men, have you not? You met them as an enemy.”

  Xera wondered where this was going. “Yes,” she said warily.

  “Have they hurt you?”

  Surprised, Xera blinked. Honesty forced her to admit, “No. They have even protected me at times.” And they had saved her life, and tried to secure a high position for her. It made her question some of the tension she was feeling now.

  Namae nodded. “I think you could be safe with Lord Ryven, if you allowed it.” She bowed without waiting for an answer and hurried away.

  Xera stared at the carpet for a moment then nodded her head. Namae might not be older, but she seemed kind and sensible. It really was better to go on without fear.

  Ryven took her to the public pools and showed her the place where families swam, and the separate pools for single men and women who were of age. She was frankly baffled why it was okay for unmarried sexes to bathe together when the Scorpio were so strict in other respects. How was it okay for them to be naked together when it wasn’t permitted to remove a jacket in a man’s presence? It was going to take time to figure out. Meanwhile, she could not see herself swimming in public anytime soon.

  They toured the grand public library with its glossy crystal shelves full of books and media, and he explained as they walked the halls and took the occasional lift that there were recreation areas, sports arenas and shopping malls, and where they were located on the various levels. They had theaters and art museums and many more amusements when she had the time. The only place she and Ryven lingered was the large summer garden located in the heart of the Lord’s level.

  It was a place of incredible beauty. Intellectually, Xera knew that part of the sky and plants were holograms designed to fool the senses, but the sky still seemed to stretch forever. The illusion was even more convincing because so many of the aromatic flowers and herbs were real, the light so changing, chased by the occasional cloud shadow. Vegetables were interspersed with flowers and grown closely together in beds bordered by low hedges or stone walls. Everywhere she looked there was beauty, and she felt as if she’d been transported to some rich country estate.

  “This is amazing! How far does the garden really reach? It looks as if you could walk here for days and never see it all.”

  “You could. It’s as big as it looks.”

  “But how could it be so huge? How did your people build this place, this palace? It looks impossible from the outside, and even more so from here.”

  “Perhaps we are not the savages you think.” His words broke the music of the moment, as if a song were cut off midword.

  Xera looked at him. Was this a test? Impossible to know from his impassive face. “I’ve never thought you were savages.”

  “Never?”

  She thought about it, gave honest consideration to anything she might have seen him do. As she did, a memory stirred. “You killed Genson.”

  “I saw your face when you looked at his body. You made a special effort to return him to your people.”

  “It was a life wasted. He was a decent man.” And yet it seemed so long ago now, with too many experiences layered over it to find the original emotion.

  “Was he a friend?”

  She struggled with the feelings his questions brought up. “He was a comrade, a crew member. We weren’t close, but he had family.” Family that would be grieving him, and she felt for their loss. Her own family would grieve, too. She was never going home.

  He nodded, his eyes steady on her. “Our cultures are very different at times. You will not believe what I was trained to find just, and I don’t always understand you. I think you are honest at heart, though. That is rare.”

  She considered the times he’d protected her, given what he had for her comfort. “You’re not completely repulsive, either,” she agreed reluctantly. She even smiled a little at the joke.

  He smiled, too, but there was something else in his expression as well. “Do I repulse you?” he asked softly.

  There it was again, that tension. She tried to be careful with her words. “I’m not comfortable with this subject. Our people are at odds.”

  “I was speaking of us.”

  It was hard to look at him. “I don’t want to have a relationship with you.”

  He looked thoughtful rather than offended. “It’s like a council for peace talks, isn’t it? Neither side wants to give away their concessions too early. The pace is slow and drags on for days. Sometimes a man can go mad from the tension.”

  She glanced up, surprised at his admission.

  He stepped forward. “I’ve never had much patience for delays, so I’ll see if we have one goal in common right now.” He took her in his arms and kissed her.

  Xera stiffened. His kiss dispensed with the formalities and cut right to the heart of the matter. There was no power struggle, only acceptance or denial.

  Her body chose acceptance: without her mind’s input, it softened for him, opened and received. She’d moaned her need into his mouth before she’d even had a chance to alert her defenses.

  And then it was over. Meeting adjourned.

  His eyes burned into her as his chest rose and fell against hers. “That was all I needed to know.”

  They didn’t say anything else. She was too shaken and he was too aroused. Together they left the garden, two adversaries who had met their match.

  Chapter Eight

  Xera spent much of the afternoon in turmoil. She hadn’t wanted Ryven to kiss her. She was afraid of what would happen now.

  He hadn’t given her any hints when he’d taken her back to her apartment and left her there, and he hadn’t tried to touch her. What ever his plans were, they didn’t involve leaping on her the instant they were near a bed.

  She hated that she’d responded to his kiss. Was she so desperately lonely that she’d give in to the first man who touched her? Would she have been the same if Toosun had done it, or Captain Khan?

  Okay, she thought with a return of sanity, she definitely wouldn’t have encouraged Khan. She had no good answer for Toosun, partly because she had the feeling that she wasn’t going to have any choice even if he had been the one to pick her. What ever was going to happen with Ryven was going to be his will. She wasn’t going to be consulted.

  The horrible thing was, she wanted what he wanted to do with her, but she never would have chosen him. She didn’t know him enough to trust that he wouldn’t hurt her. And what about her heart? She’d die of shame if he tried to make her his mistress. She’d been raised in a very conservative society and hadn’t shaken the moral convictions she’d been taught. She couldn’t sleep with a man who wasn’t her husband.

  But she couldn’t marry him! She was already courting disaster for having attacked her captain. If he were traded back in negotiations, his story of events would get out. If she became married to Ryven she’d definitely be branded a traitor. She didn’t want her sisters to believe that of her.

  Namae rescued Xera from her agonizing self-absorption that afternoon with another intense grooming session. This one included a massage, some painless and permanent hair removal, a facial and more hand and foot therapy. It was a marvelous distraction and ate up what might have been a horrendous wait.

  She started to get a clue that Namae knew more about her schedule than she did when the young woman pulled out an apple green gown of heavy, embroidered silk and said it would be perfect to wear to dinner with the lord governor.

  “Dinner?” Xera asked uncertainly. “We just had lunch.”

  Namae smiled. “It is an honor, and an excellent sign. It’s good that
he likes you.”

  Xera supposed it was better than being stored in the dungeon, but she still worried. “Are married couples here monogamous?” She didn’t know the Scorpio word for monogamous and used her own.

  Namae frowned over the unfamiliar word.

  Annoyed at herself, Xera tried again. “On my world, married couples are faithful to each other. They don’t share themselves with anyone else.”

  A startling pallor iced Namae’s cheeks. She wouldn’t meet Xera’s eyes. “It is that way here also, mistress,” she said quietly.

  Concerned, Xera got to her feet and put a supporting arm around the servant. “What is it? Are you ill? Here, sit down.” She sat the reluctant woman down in her vacated chair.

  “I…I shouldn’t be here. I should go,” Namae protested. “You are right—I have no business being in a respectable home.”

  “What are you talking about?” Xera demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with you. At least, nothing a shot of brandy won’t fix.” She looked around, mentally cursing the lack of liquor. She hadn’t landed on a dry planet, had she? She’d grown up in a bar that served the best liquor on her planet. To suddenly come against a problem that clearly called for whiskey and be dry…her sisters would be horrified.

  Come to think of it, she could use a drink herself. Maybe she’d have a request of old Ryven after all.

  Namae was sobbing now, her face in her hands. Desperate to help, Xera took charge the only way she knew how. She said briskly, “All right, that’s enough! Sit up here and let’s talk about this. Obviously you’ve kept it bottled up long enough.”

  Namae obediently sat up. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel so ashamed.” Tears threatened again.

  “Just talk about it,” Xera urged her. “Tears might make me dissolve into a clone of my sister, and trust me, you don’t want to see that.” Not that there was anything wrong with her sibling’s calm, take-charge attitude, but Xera had spent years trying to be different from her older sister. The thought of becoming her was truly abhorrent, like becoming a copy of one’s mother.