Melisende And The Star Warrior

by Marie Dry

  Melisende curtsied. “Merci, M’sieur.”

  He held out his arm in a gesture that rivalled the king’s in elegance. She took it, and he led her to the big open area at the entrance to find the priest frantically trying to find the door in the wall they’d used to enter the cave. She could’ve told him that if that door didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t find it.

  Zain let go of Melisende and sped over to the priest. Before she could blink, he’d grabbed the priest by the back of his robe and carried him to the great room. Melisende followed them, suppressing the strangest urge to laugh. The priest didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even blink, in Zain’s grip.

  Zain put the priest down. “Produce your Bible, wise one, and do a proper marriage.” His tone promised consequences if the priest didn’t do it.

  Zain came over to Melisende and led her to the priest. “I still don’t know if I should wear a stolen dress,” she told him.

  The priest cleared his throat. “If we are all—”

  “Do not presume to interrupt my breeder,” Zain snarled at him.

  The poor priest froze with his mouth open, about to say more, barely holding his Bible open in his shaking hands.

  “Soon the synthesizer will be fully operational and I won’t need to take dresses from stinky camels.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I have a machine that can make anything I desire. It is charging.”

  Melisende stepped closer to him. “Charging what?” Everything he said was so strange and interesting. She would love to see this new machine.

  The priest cleared his throat again. “The church is clear on evil—”

  “Quiet,” they said, in unison.

  “Let the fat wise man marry us, then I will show you the synthesizer,” Zain said. Melisende nodded and stood quiet while the priest said a few shaky words and declared them married. She preferred this small wedding, with only her and Zain present, to the elaborate ceremony with her family present to see her wed to a powerful ally, that she’d always thought she’d have.

  Zain leaned down and kissed her, a hot, possessive kiss that set tingles going in her body. She could feel his reluctance to stop when he lifted his head. He’d found a reason to kiss her every day, and she’d come to look forward to it.

  He turned to the priest and his copper form flashed from green and copper, to copper and back. His eyes swirled red and black. His incisors grew to enormous lengths, and his claws extended into long, sharp, dangerous instruments. “I am the demon sent by your devil. If you talk about me or my breeder, I will come for you when you sleep and take you to—” He turned to Melisende. “Describe the place everyone in this century fears so much.”

  Melisende had a hard time not laughing. A few days ago she’d have been as terrified as the poor priest looked. “Hell? Where fires rage that burn sinners eternally,” she said, dutifully.

  Zain nodded and glared at the priest. “I will take you to the bottom of the mountain. You will never talk about this, or I will find you.”

  All desire to laugh left her. “Please do not kill him.”

  The priest paled even more, and she hadn’t thought that was possible. He was beyond coherence since Zain had shown his true form. Melisende didn’t blame him. She still had trouble accepting that he was from another planet.

  Zain walked up to the priest and the man’s eyes widened. He stumbled back. “Non, pas necessaire.”

  Ignoring his protestations, Zain again picked him up by the scruff of his neck and carried him outside. Zain strode to a shiny area with a silver table that reminded her of a marble slab. He grunted something, and a sack, and bread and cheese, and an odd flask of wine appeared. Melisende blinked. It had to be the new machine, and it was truly magical. He leaned his forehead against hers and then kissed her, a brief scorching touch of their lips. Still holding the priest, he left.

  When he returned, she sat in the great room, reading the scrolls. “Is the priest still alive?” she asked.

  Ever since the priest in their village had told her uncle to whip Melisende, she’d had a mistrust of the clergy. Even as a child she knew he did not want her punished to get rid of the demons that caused her to know too much. No, he had wanted her to be punished because she asked questions he did not know the answers to. And yet, without Father Ademar, who’d come after Father Felipe, she never would’ve read about Thales. He might have lived centuries ago, but he had become a mentor to her.

  “He may die, spontaneously.” He bared his teeth at her. “From fear of this warrior who promised to visit him regularly. I do believe if he knew where to find us, he would like to burn us at the stake.”

  Melisende shuddered. “I’ve lived in fear of that happening my whole life.”

  Those black eyes turned to her, and red slowly crept into them. She would never get used to seeing that. “You said you are from a powerful family. How can a priest threaten you with burning at the stake?”

  “The church have more power than my family.” She stared down at her hands. “I wish to talk about something else.” She’d lived with the fear of the church, or her family declaring her evil, her whole life. She needed to put it behind her.

  “We will do the first knowing.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “I don’t know if I am up to this first knowing. Maybe you should explain it to me first.” She wanted him, she couldn’t deny that, but she also feared what he would demand from her. Did he conduct relations like a human male would? What if he was built different from a human man? “I will show you.” Melisende blinked.

  “Do you want the first knowing?”

  Melisende stared up at him and knew there was only one truthful answer. “Yes.”

  He picked her up and rushed her to the bed.

  He arranged her arms and legs to his satisfaction, but his gaze never left her hair. Zain’s eyes flickered to her breasts, but it was as if he couldn’t resist the lure of her hair. He sat next to her on the bed and stroked her hair away from her face. On the pillow, he did something to her hair, with absolute concentration.

  Melisende felt the soft tugs on her scalp and blinked. The first knowing wasn’t fornication? “Is the first knowing arranging my hair?” He truly had odd customs.

  “It is the beginning. You have to be still, my breeder, while I teach you.”

  She’d remain still and find out what he’d do next. All her life she’d thought she’d have a marriage that was advantageous to her family. With a public bedding that she’d dreaded. Zain was like an unexpected gift.

  He returned to her hair and arranged it and played with it until she was sleepy with pleasure. “I love the Star Warrior way of fornication,” she told him.

  “Still, my breeder.”

  He returned to her hair, and only when she was a mass of relaxed bones, did he trace her forehead with his thumbs. He followed the path of her nose, softly pressed his thumbs into her cheeks. This close, she breathed in his wonderful spicy scent.

  In that moment, while her heart hammered and her skin tingled with pleasure, she knew he was a wizard. Of pleasure.

  He rubbed her throat with his roughened fingers, moved down to her breasts. He undid the laces of her bodice.

  Melisende bit her lip. What if he didn’t find her pleasing? Her breasts were small for her large frame. Zain freed her breasts and stared down at her. “You are more beautiful than a Zyrgin sunset.”

  Melisende blinked back tears of joy, that she’d been blessed with a husband like Zain. She had never thought such intense emotion possible. She held her breath.

  After he’d stroked and arranged her hair, he caressed her face with his thumbs, his eyes blazing red passion at her. She shivered when he touched behind her ears. Who knew that could feel so good?

  “You are made like a perfect woman,” he said, while he stared down at her breasts with an intensity that would’ve sent her running a few days ago, convinced he wanted to eat her. “All females should be made like you.” />
  “Thank you,” she said, and she sounded breathy and strange to her own ears.

  He caressed the undersides of her breasts, stroked in wide circles ever upward until he reached her straining nipples. This was so sinful and she didn’t care. If it was wrong to feel such pleasure, to desperately want him to touch her nipples she would gladly burn. She jerked and moaned with pleasure when he flicked his thumbs gently over her nipples.

  “You are not to move or speak. I will start over.”

  Melisende’s body tautened, each muscle spasming with remembered pleasure. She was a sinful woman, because she’d die of pleasure if he did all that again. “No please, go on. Don’t start over.”

  Ignoring her entreaty, he began at her hair again, taking his time rearranging her hair to his satisfaction. He caressed her face with his thumbs, and moved on to her neck and shoulders, this time barely caressing her breasts, until it took every inch of self-control not to moan and lift her breasts and hips for more of his attention. She prayed he didn’t notice the way her toes curled. If he started over, she’d become a salt pillar like Lot’s wife.

  Those wicked thumbs caressed her stomach, wiggled over her navel as if he wanted to insert a finger there. He was too large and she hoped that was not a sign that their bodies wouldn’t fit. He swept her dress down her legs and off and moved on to her nether regions.

  Melisende wanted to cover her breasts and below with her hands, but if she moved, he’d start again. She might end up the only woman in history to die of pleasure. She felt shy and excited, all at the same time.

  His thumbs touched her thighs, rubbing in ever smaller circles. He pulled her legs open and his thumb landed on the area between her legs.

  She scrunched her eyes shut, but before her embarrassment could take hold, pleasure so intense she saw stars, exploded in her body. She came back to her senses, moaning and writhing. “You stole my soul with your heathen ways, Star Warrior.”

  “I will start again,” he said.

  Melisende could only moan in response. He was trying to kill her with pleasure.

  Many hours later, she opened her eyes and stared up at her wicked Star Warrior. Her body was sore, but not in the way it felt after punishment. This was a good sore. “That was wondrous. Is that how Star Warriors do relations?”

  He pushed his chest out. “That is what relations are like when you belong to an exceptionally strong and brave Zyrgin warrior.”

  Melisende smiled and caressed his bald head. “I see.”

  He leaned into her caress. “We will do this for six hours, every night.”

  She felt her eyes go round. Six hours. “My body would become one big sore spot,” she whispered. She didn’t want to mention it, but she felt rather raw between her legs. It would be magnificent, being pleasured for that many hours, but her body would expire.

  “Five hours,” he said.

  Laughter bubbled from deep inside her stomach. Was he bargaining with her? For hours of fornication? “Half an hour,” she said, curious to see his reaction.

  He traced her hairline. “If you agree to four hours, I will show you a movie about a space ranger. About a particularly ugly human who pretends to be a Star Warrior.”

  Curiosity sparked, she nodded. “Four hours.” She didn’t know what a movie was, but she couldn’t pass over this opportunity to learn.

  Melisende expected him to agree, even a grunt. Instead, his incisors grew longer than she’d ever seen them. His eyes swirled red, and the room around her chilled. He bent down and sank his incisors into her neck. She whimpered in fear, betrayal bitter on her tongue.

  Mercifully, the world went dark around her. Her last thought was that all it took for her to faint was his savage betrayal.

  She woke, feeling as if she could run for days and not be tired. The cushion next to her had an indentation where his head had lain, but Zain was not in their bedroom. Gingerly, she felt her neck, but there was no wound that she could feel.

  She pulled on her robe, and went in search of him. He’d better have a good explanation for biting her. At the door, she hesitated. A dutiful wife was not supposed to question her husband. She balled her fists. She’d broken with many traditions, and this one she’d gladly break, as well. She bathed, dressed, and went looking for him.

  She found him working on the ball he called a probe. Even after he’d explained it to her, she still didn’t understand all its functions.

  “Why did you hurt me?” she blurted. She’d believed he was her miracle. That he’d never cause her harm.

  He turned, rose in one smooth motion. She was a silly, wicked woman because his fluid movements and rippling muscles were beautiful to her. “My people bite their breeders so that they live longer.”

  Melisende blinked. That was the last response she’d expected. Did he really think she’d believe such a fantastical tale? But he came from the stars. She’d seen his magical equipment. Maybe it was true. “How long will I live?”

  He came to her, took her in his arms. “Several decades.” Melisende had a strong sense that he wasn’t telling her everything. “Is the future much different?” She still didn’t know if she could believe that he came from centuries into the future.

  “Yes, you will see wondrous things.”

  She touched her neck. “And I’m going to live forever and stay young and see the ships that sail in the air that you came with?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.

  “Not forever, but yes, you will live a very long time and see our spaceship.”

  “Will you show me your magic again?”

  Zain turned and, taking her hand in his, led her towards the monitors. “This is not magic. It is a device that shows everything the probes record outside.”

  “It’s all so different from what I know.” Different and wondrous.

  “Some things are always the same. I might be green and bald and ugly, but I feel for you what a human man would feel. I love you. No matter how much the world around you will change in future, I will always love you.”

  Her heart melted. Everything he did told her he cared for her. Hearing him say he loved her was like solving the greatest mathematical puzzle of all ages. “I love you, my Star Warrior. Kiss me, my brave warrior.” Melisende stepped closer into him, stood on tiptoe, and lifted her mouth to his. He bent his head and kissed her.

  Chapter Seven

  Melisende stood at the entrance to the cave, looking down at the castle, which, from this distance, was a mere speck. She automatically calculated the distance to it, and the size of the castle and people in it. Her family had arrived. She’d recognized their banners on the machine with the small people.

  What if they went to war with Sir Robert over her disappearance? She’d be responsible for many people dying. On her way to the convent, she’d seen what her family did to anyone who opposed them. Homes burned to the ground, once proud village folk begged for food.

  “You miss your family?” Zain asked from behind.

  Melisende sighed. “No, I was never normal enough to be acknowledged. I do feel guilty for not missing them.” He’d explained to her that they couldn’t interfere with what was happening at the castle. She knew she could never give up Zain, and that meant not contacting her family. Her relief over that was a constant guilt.

  “You are with a Zyrgin warrior. Naturally you will not miss them, therefore you do not need to feel guilt.”

  She smiled. “That is true.” Zain didn’t believe in the humility preached by the church.

  He pulled her into his arms, and she turned to find his eyes blazing red. She knew now that they turned red with passion or anger or any strong feeling.

  Melisende stood on tiptoe and kissed him. As always, her body became fire and passion. When at last they broke apart, she was trembling, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. He was more potent than wine. “Tell me your greatest wish,” he said when he lifted his head at last.

  She didn’t even have to think abou
t it. “I want to walk in the footsteps of Thales of Miletus.”

  He lifted a strand of her hair, wound it around his forefinger. “Travelling in this century is difficult and it would be hard, but it can be done.”

  Melisende stood up straight, her heart beating so loud she was sure they could hear it all the way to the village.

  “You would take me to Egypt and Greece?”

  “We will go cloaked.”

  Her stomach turned. “You will make me invisible with your machine?” Her stomach didn’t like being invisible and she didn’t relish the experience. But Egypt! “When will we go?”

  His smile that was all sharp teeth was the most beautiful she’d ever seen. “Now.”

  ***

  After months of travelling and seeing places she never thought she’d visit, they entered Cairo through a gateway that was so big and imposing, she nearly hurt her neck trying to see every detail. She loved Egypt, and especially Cairo with its tea houses and churches and mosques, the exotic-smelling spices and sounds of people shouting and talking and horses mingling like music to her ears.

  “I love it here.”

  “We cannot stay here. I am to be leader of France in the twenty-fifth century.”

  Melisende turned to him and couldn’t stop the broad, happy smile from spreading over her face. She’d learned to ignore his claim of living centuries. “I want to go home eventually, but I love that you gave me this adventure.”

  They stayed a few days in the bustling city, and then moved on to see the pyramids. Zain obtained a horse and walked next to her. He’d told her that he was too heavy to sit on a horse and could run faster. She’d seen him do that, but still she felt guilty riding while he had to walk.

  Late that night, deep in the desert, while all was quiet and the full moon shone on them, they stood gazing up at the great pyramid of Giza. “It’s smaller than I thought it would be,” she said. Somehow, she had seen a much larger structure in her mind.