The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel

by Evangeline Anderson

  Need nodded a welcome.

  “You know,” he remarked, “Most females would have been more interested in the silk or tassels we passed. But not you—you’ve always got your eye out for new ingredients to play with.”

  “I love cooking and baking,” Lan’ara said simply. “New recipes are so much fun to try! I can’t wait to look some up to use with these fruits tonight. I hope the crew will like what I make.”

  Need snorted.

  “You know damn good and well they will! You’ve got the lot of them eating out of your hand, girl—both literally and figuratively. And that includes Captain Glo’ll, who declares you are the ‘most lovely meat-based organism’ he has ever seen.”

  Lan’ara put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

  “Well, we meat-based organisms aim to please! And I’m glad you think the crew finds my cooking pleasing.”

  “Some of the crew finds a whole lot more than your cooking pleasing,” Need murmured, looking into her eyes. “Some of us enjoy your skills in the sleeping chamber even more than your baking skills.”

  He knew he shouldn’t talk so to her, but he liked the way his words made her blush and drop her eyes…liked the way her soft voice became so breathless when he reminded her of what they did each night.

  “My Lord, you flatter me,” she murmured, looking up at him from under her long lashes. “And may I point out that you are quite skilled yourself in the arts of pleasure.”

  “I’m glad you approve of my technique,” Need rumbled, smiling down at her.

  Lan’ara blushed even more deeply.

  “I do, my Lord. Sometimes…” She bit her lip. “Sometimes it is all I can think about,” she confessed softly.

  “I’ve been thinking about it too, Lan’ara,” he admitted. “Been thinking about you.” Her name slipped out along with his confession and then it was too late to call it back.

  “My Lord…Need,” she said, looking up at him. “Please, I was wondering…there is something…something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “What is it, then?” Need murmured. “Something you need?”

  “Yes, in a way. I—”

  “Well, hello there, friends!” a high, fruity voice cooed, interrupting their conversation. “Needrix, you did not tell me you had gotten mated since our last encounter!”

  Thirty-Two

  Lan’ara wished the strange looking man who had interrupted their conversation hadn’t said that about her and Need being “mated.” It made the big Kindred drop her hand at once and scowl like a thunderstorm, though just moments before he had been softening towards her, she was sure of it. He had even called her by her name instead of just “girl”. Surely that had to mean something—didn’t it?

  Well, she would have to hope they could continue their conversation later because now it looked like Need was all business.

  “Greetings, Myakk,” he said, frowning down at the man. “Are you ready to deal?”

  “Of course but not here. Follow me. Come, Velda—this way my sweet.”

  These words weren’t directed at them but rather to the strange conveyance he was riding in. It looked a little like a shiny, shell-pink bathtub with four stubby legs and cunning little paw-like feet. It picked its way through the crowded marketplace daintily, reminding Lan’ara of Nettie—one of the equines she used to ride at Twyleth Tigg for recreation sometimes.

  Nettie had been skittish and likely to shy at almost anything—a leaf blowing by, a flutterby flying too close to her sensitive nose, even her own shadow on the ground. She could, however, be bribed. Whenever she chose Nettie to ride on, Lan’ara always made certain to have plenty of sweet biscuits in her pockets. Just one or two of them would settle the skittish equine down and make her behave.

  As she watched the strange pink bathtub thing, she thought that it really did remind her of Nettie. It kept stopping and jolting from side to side, making the man called Myakk speak to it in a stern voice. She wondered if it had a mouth and eyes on the front sloping side of its oval body and wished she had taken more than a cursory glance at it before he turned it around.

  But Myakk was well worth looking at himself. His top half looked normal—if slightly piratical since he had a patch over one eye and wore a long black beard and mustache. He was sitting up in the pink bathtub, but the bottom half of him was submerged in some pale blue liquid which sloshed as the bathtub moved, and made it hard to see his legs.

  Or were they legs? Lan’ara craned her neck, trying to get a better look. She thought she caught a glimpse of scales under the surface of the liquid—maybe even a hint of a tail with a broad fin at its tip.

  Need clearly saw her interest.

  “Myakk is half-Bertswishan,” he murmured to her as they followed the pink bathtub through the marketplace. “They are an ocean-dwelling people who live off the coastal shelf of the largest continent here on Felicitus Twelve.”

  “Oh…” Lan’ara looked at the strange man with renewed interest. “Does that mean he’s, er, half-fish?”

  “Only the handsome half, my dear,” Myakk remarked, turning in his bathtub to grin up at her.

  Lan’ara was mortified that he’d caught her asking about him. Her cheeks went hot at once and she began to protest.

  “Oh, I never meant to—”

  “Don’t worry, my dear! I’m not offended,” Myakk assured her. “It was, after all, such curiosity which allowed my father to seduce my mother in the first place. And now, here I am—the better half of both worlds!” He laughed heartily at his own joke. “Ah—here we are.”

  The walking bathtub he had called “Velda” had led them to a sheltered corner of the marketplace—an empty stall under a thick canopy which kept the dazzling light of the twin suns at bay.

  Lan’ara was glad to step into the shade—the heat and brilliance of the Felicitus Twelve day was rather overwhelming. There was a thick carpet on the ground too, which was much nicer than walking on the dusty main road.

  Myakk directed his bathtub creature over to a large mound of pillows which were piled in one corner of the stall and began digging through them until he seemed to find one he liked.

  “Now then,” he said, directing the bathtub to turn around on its stubby legs and face Need and Lan’ara.

  It did have a face, Lan’ara saw with great interest as she finally got a good long look at “Velda.”

  The pink bathtub creature had big blue eyes with surprisingly long lashes and a cupid’s bow mouth the same shiny pink as its body. There was even a dainty, tip-tilted nose that sniffed the air appreciatively when Need swung the bag full of fruit down off his shoulder.

  It was a pretty face, Lan’ara decided, but not an intelligent one. You could tell just by looking into the large, vacant blue eyes that the bathtub creature wasn’t sentient. It was alert and lively, however, its blue eyes scanning nervously from side to side and its little nose wrinkling as though it was taking in all the scents.

  “Admiring my Velda, are you?” Myakk asked, clearly noticing how Lan’ara was staring at his ride. “She’s bred to carry a half-breed like me for clicks and clicks without stopping once. Unfortunately, she’s not very smart,” he added. “Though she is usually dependable.”

  “She’s very pretty,” Lan’ara said politely. “She reminds me of an equine I used to ride at my old school.”

  “Ah yes—some have said Velda’s species are like equines. We just call them ‘tubb-ohs.’ Now then, let’s get down to business.”

  Apparently tired of talking about his ride, Myakk carefully cut open the pillow he had selected with a long, wicked-looking knife. He then extracted a tiny packet of pale blue powder.

  “The finest and purest powdered yarrow root that money can buy,” he told Need. “This is only a sample, of course. But if you approve it, we can move this transaction to my ship, where I have the rest.”

  “Sounds good,” Need said, nodded. “Let’s see it.”

  “Of course. Er…” Myakk paused delicately. “And w
ill the young lady be trying some to test the product’s, ah, efficacy?”

  “What? No!” Need exclaimed angrily. He drew Lan’ara behind him protectively.

  “Excuse me!” Myakk held up both hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “But since you said she is not your mate, I just assumed you had brought her along as a test subject.”

  “I wouldn’t do that—wouldn’t use anyone as a test subject for your fucking poison,” Need growled angrily. “Least of all Lan’ara!”

  “Now, now—yarrow root is hardly a poison!” the other man protested. “Why, it gives ninety-nine percent of the lucky souls who snort it the most beautiful, heavenly visions they’ve ever seen in their life! Everything looks lovely and perfect and happy once you’ve got a snoot-full of yarrow root.”

  “Unless you’re one of the unlucky sons-of-bitches who goes on a bad trip,” Need pointed out. “Visions of all Seven Hells and demons tormenting you for a solid solar year—no thank you, it’s not worth the fucking risk!”

  “Well, to each their own,” Myakk said a bit stiffly. “I myself have never had a ‘bad trip’ as you put it, and I have been snorting yarrow root for years!”

  “You’ve been lucky then,” Need said grimly. “You never can tell which snort is going to plunge you into a hellscape you can’t get out of.”

  “As you say.” Myakk looked offended. “Well, how do you propose to test the product if you’re so against taking it yourself and you won’t let the pretty lady try any either?”

  “Nobody is going to be ‘trying’ the product. We’ll do this the safe way.”

  Need handed Lan’ara the bag of fruit and pulled several things out of an inside pocket. One was a test tube, filled with blue liquid and the other was a kind of mask which fit over his nose.

  “Stand back,” he said to Lan’ara sternly. “And hold your nose while I do this. The yarrow root only works if it gets into the nasal passages and affects the olfactory nerves.”

  “Indeed, it does,” Myakk said, nodding. “Very well then—if you’re ready?”

  “Ready,” Need said, making sure his nose was covered with the mask.

  “Ready,” Lan’ara echoed, her voice coming out nasal since she had her nose pinched carefully shut with one hand while she held the bag of fruit with the other.

  “Very well then.” Myakk slit open the little bag and dipped just the tip of his knife into the fine blue powder which looked like fine, sky-blue sand to Lan’ara. Need held out the test tube and the other man tipped the powder into it. They all watched as it swirled down to the bottom of the tube.

  At first Lan’ara thought nothing was going to happen. The liquid in the tube stayed blue and inert and not even a single bubble rose to the top.

  But then, just as she was thinking it was all over, the blue liquid began changing colors. At first it was a subtle change—the deep blue turned ever so slightly greenish so that it was turquoise. Then it swiftly turned bright green, lemon yellow, and shocking pink all in the space of two or three seconds.

  “Ohhh!” Lan’ara murmured, leaning forward around Need’s arm to see better. She kept her nose tightly pinched shut with her left hand but her right hand was still holding the heavy mesh bag of fruit.

  And that was when it happened.

  The bag of tanska fruit bumped lightly against the front part of Myakk’s ride. In fact, it bumped right against Velda’s pink, pursed, cupids-bow mouth.

  Velda’s dainty pointed nose wrinkled appreciatively and she made a sudden lunge for the bag.

  “Oh!” Lan’ara saw it just in time and pulled the bag back with a cry of surprise. She ran behind Need to keep away from the hungry beast, but this only made the tubb-oh more determined to get at the fruit.

  Velda reared up, sloshing blue liquid over her sides and making Myakk swear loudly in a language Lan’ara didn’t know. She rammed into Need, trying to get past him and get to Lan’ara and the bag filled with fruit.

  Need shouted and dropped the test tube—which by now was changing colors too quickly for the eye to follow. Not that Lan’ara was looking at it anymore—she was trying to get away from the rampaging pink bathtub, who seemed very likely to trample her if she didn’t get to higher ground.

  In the confusion, Lan’ara stopped holding her nose. And at that moment, Velda reared again, spilling both Myakk and most of the liquid inside her out onto the heap of pillows. The packet of powder the half-fish man had been holding flew into the air and split open, spraying the fine, sky-blue sand everywhere.

  At the same time, Velda charged around Need and rammed into Lan’ara’s thighs. The tubb-oh might have been trying to trample her but instead, the forward momentum pitched Lan’ara head-first into the mostly empty body of the tub.

  The wind completely knocked out of her, Lan’ara took deep, gasping breaths, trying to get some air back into her lungs. There was suddenly an odd, sweet taste at the back of her throat and a funny smell in her nose—something really strong and floral as though every flower she’d ever smelled had suddenly come together to ram themselves up her nostrils at once. What was that?

  She was vaguely aware of Myakk shouting Velda’s name and Need shouting hers but then everything got blurry and she was suddenly out of the shade and back into the blazing sunshine. She had the sensation of galloping, just as she had when she was riding Nettie back at Twyleth Tigg. But who ever heard of galloping lying flat on your back and looking up at the sky?

  “What’s happening? Where in the Seven Hells is that damn thing taking Lan’ara?” Need was yelling but his voice was getting fainter, as though receding into the distance.

  “I don’t know—help me up!” Myakk howled. “Velda…Velda, come back you cursed bitch of a tubb-oh!”

  But Velda was clearly not in the mood to listen. She had an unfamiliar rider and—much like Nettie—she wasn’t too happy about it. She bucked and careened crazily through the marketplace, giving Lan’ara occasional glances of shocked faces and dismayed shouts.

  Somehow she had managed to hold onto the mesh bag of tanska fruit but she lost her grip and the fruit all went rolling out and started bouncing around the inside of the shell-pink tub with her. It was, as Need had promised, as hard as a rock and it hurt as the many fist-sized globes hit her.

  “Ow…ouch!” Lan’ara gasped as she bumped along crazily with the multicolored fruits bouncing up and down all around her.

  This is awful! Have to sit up—have to get hold of Velda and make her stop! she thought dizzily. If only there were some reigns to hold on to—or anything to hold onto for that matter—except the slick sides of the tub! There was still about six inches of blue liquid sloshing around in the bottom too, which made things even slipperier. But somehow she had to manage—otherwise who knew where she was going to wind up?

  Grimly, Lan’ara gripped the sides of the tub and tried to sit up. For a moment, it seemed she had succeeded. She found herself upright and looking at the shocked faces of the merchants and buyers in the market as Velda careened through the crowd.

  But then Velda shied at something and reared up, causing Lan’ara to fall backwards. There was an audible clonk as she hit the back of her head against the tub’s sloping wall, a sharp pain, and then…nothing but darkness.

  Thirty-Three

  “Where in the Seven Hells did they go?” Need demanded, glaring around the crowded marketplace. You wouldn’t think a big pink tub creature could get so thoroughly lost in the crowd in such a short time but somehow Myakk’s steed had managed it. It was gone without a trace and it had taken Lan’ara with it.

  “Where did that damn tubb-oh thing of yours take my female?” he demanded again, crouching over Myakk, who was flopping helplessly on the ground. “Think, man—where would she go?”

  But a change had come over Myakk. He was flopping on the rich carpet that covered the floor of the stall and moaning as he pulled at his hair and beard.

  “Demons…demons!” he cried. “Ah, no—I am in Hell! The place of the damned! My
soul has been weighed and found wanting!”

  Well, shit.

  Need knew at once what had happened—when the Yarrow root flew into the air, Myakk must have inhaled some. And now, though he had bragged about using his own product for years with no problems, he was finally having a bad trip.

  Need got right up in his face, trying to make the other male understand him.

  “Myakk! Come back to me!”

  But the other male recoiled from him, a look of sheer terror on his piratical features.

  “No, Demon! I will not go with you! I will not go, I tell you!”

  Need gave up. There was no getting through to the male right now. Later, when the effects had been mitigated a bit he might be able to help Myakk see through the demonic effects of the drug. But right now, with the yarrow root powder so fresh in his system, he would see anyone near him as a demon bent on dragging him to Hell.

  There was nothing to do but try and track the pink bathtub creature who had carried Lan’ara off himself.

  And pray to the Goddess that he found her before a slaver or a cloner from a chop shop did.

  Thirty-Four

  Lan’ara opened her eyes to see a clear, cerulean blue sky and the tall, golden towers of an immense palace rising above her. There was a sweet smell like flowers in the air and she inhaled deeply, taking it in.

  “What in the world?” she murmured, blinking her eyes and looking around. She was in a lovely tub about a quarter filled with sparkling pale blue liquid. The liquid had seeped into her clothing, making them cling to her skin in a way that Lan’ara found strangely charming. There were bright, jewel-colored things bobbing around in the liquid with her. They were…

  Wait a minute—what were they? And where was she? Lan’ara had a vague idea that she was about to remember—the name for the things around her was right on the tip of her tongue—but somehow it wouldn’t come to her. If only her head didn’t ache so much and she could concentrate…