regard one whom she found so appealing. She knew she had hurt him with her reluctance to embrace him after they shared the kiss, but she couldn’t risk seeing him harmed.
Noting he was staring at the wall across from him she followed the direction of his eyes. On this particular wall was depicted the same courtesan whose astounding beauty and form graced the other murals in this chamber. Vivacious, nude, her full breasts having captured the attention of her obviously aroused counterpart in this particular fresco, her eyes seemed to invite the participation of any whose eyes lingered too long upon her image.
Erik left his seat, preparing on impulse to join Peenemünde upon the dais upon which she sat writing which doubled as a settee and her sleeping platform, when Lafalldor, Garmakalok’s chief lieutenant and majordomo, entered as swiftly and silently as a ghost.
“What language were you speaking just now?” he demanded.
Behind Lafalldor were the two guards who escorted Erik here earlier. Erik’s ardor cooled and wilted like a flower in fall.
07: An Interesting Discovery
Lafalldor stood in the entrance to the girl’s rooms, his stare passing from the man to the girl and back again.
When he next spoke his tones were icy, carrying unveiled promises of impending violence. “Any language but Denebian is forbidden!”
“Lafalldor, I—“ began the girl.
“It was my fault,” Erik interrupted. “I had forgotten a word I learned weeks ago; I only asked the question to refresh my memory. It will not happen again as this conversation has permanently etched the word in my memory.”
“I do not pretend to understand your barbarous tongue but that did not sound like a question to me a moment ago; it sounded more like a statement. Since you tend to forget it, perhaps you need a memorable reminder of this particular term by my men. What word was it? But wait!”
His expression becoming one of calculating cunning he turned to the girl and motioned her to follow him, leaving his men in the room with Erik. After a moment in the outer hall Lafalldor returned with a pale Peenemünde.
“Now, let us see if both your versions of what you claim was said as I entered correspond. What word exactly did you ask this woman to give you the Denebian equivalent of?” Lafalldor demanded.
The girl’s face looked fearful. If Erik got this wrong there would be no escaping the beating he would receive in just a few moments. The last word he spoke to Peenemünde came to mind. But then he looked past Lafalldor to a fresco of the beautiful courtesan whose living, breathing presence once graced these rooms and whose essence yet did so. Erik didn’t hesitate. There could be only one word that was fresh in both their minds. Summoning a cockiness natural to most pilots, he eyed the majordomo.
“Stimulating. The word was stimulating.”
Out of the corner of his eye he caught the faintest glimmer of a smile at one corner of Peenemünde’s beautiful mouth before she hid it. He kept his own face perfectly neutral and his eyes never left those of Lafalldor. A look of disappointment briefly crossed the gray-back’s face, and then his eyes narrowed in vindictive cruelty.
“Perhaps it would further cement the word in your memory were I to have both you and the girl flogged.”
Erik recalled a comment Peenemünde made only moments before the gray-backs entered her chambers, something about them preening about their intelligence. He had met others like them in the past, men who were not so different from these gray-skinned beasts from another world; condescending men who would puff up when one played to their egos. Sometimes, when accosted by men such as these, they would forget the complaint they were accusing one of and leave with a word of warning could one but divert their attentions to their favorite subject - themselves.
“I must say, Lafalldor, the complexity of your tongue, bespeaking as it does a high level of evolution, attainment and erudition rarely encountered, is such that I am surprised anyone on Earth could possibly learn it to fluency. Why, even Peenemünde admits she at times struggles with it - and she is your chief instructor! Forgive me, Lafalldor! It shall not occur again.”
The gray-back had perceptively puffed up with the compliments as Erik suspicioned he might. As the human fell silent Lafalldor eyed the apartment, as if seeking somewhat else that might be considered suspicious. Finding nothing he looked at Peenemünde.
“His progress?”
“I have it here.” She handed him the sheaf of paperwork she’d been updating just before they entered. This Lafalldor quickly skimmed.
“Satisfactory. He shall continue for a few more sessions at which time I shall deem his instruction in the area of our language complete.”
Next he eyed Erik. “See that you never again speak other than Denebian.”
Turning on his heel he left, his two henchmen following suit. The two humans shared a look, both of them grinning in relief. Peenemünde slid quietly to the entry where she peeked at the retreating backs of the Denebians and then she eased the door shut.
“Erik! How did you know—“
When she turned around Erik stood directly behind her. One arm slid expertly about her waist and drew her to him while with the other he braced himself against the wall. The girl did not resist. She slid a hand slowly up his back to his shoulder while with her other she sought behind her for the latch to her door. It would not do for Lafalldor to return and find them exercising somewhat other than Erik’s vocabulary.
The Valley of Despair Page 7