SurrendersMischief

by Alvania Scarborough

  She saw the quick flare of rage and desperation in Darias’ amber eyes as his muscles froze, the nerves paralyzed by the very specific application of pressure. She grinned and straddled his massive chest, pushing his shoulders flat to the floor. She leaned down and took his mouth with hers in an unmistakable gesture of victory.

  Dead silence filled the Great Hall as the electronic signal shrilled the final count. Warriors stared, unable to believe their eyes. Their Chief had been defeated—by a woman. Slowly, gaining momentum a little at a time, a cheer arose until it filled the cavernous room. At first it was a few voices then a few dozen, finally several hundred feminine screams filled the air.

  Riana lifted her mouth and opened her eyes. She stared down at Darias, into a gaze the color of tarnished gold. Male musk rose from his hot and sweaty body. A fierce rush of arousal hardened her nipples and pooled between her legs. “You lose,” she whispered next to his ear. She lifted a lock of damp hair from across his eyes with her mouth. The black hair felt like spidersilk on her lips, stirring the lust already simmering in her blood.

  “No,” he rejected, his voice a harsh whisper. Denial sparked his golden eyes, making them burn.

  She reached down and took his lower lip between her teeth. She tugged sharply, and was rewarded with his sharply indrawn breath. “Admit it. You lost. According to the terms of our wager, the winner owns the loser, body and soul. Say it,” she ordered.

  She could see Darias’ inner struggle, could feel his need to deny reality. She also saw the moment when honor won.

  “I’m yours.”

  “Louder. I want every one of your warriors to hear you.”

  Dull color stained the hard cheeks. “I belong to you.”

  “Body and soul,” she prompted.

  “Body and soul, I belong to you.” His roar drowned out the sound of the women cheering. Silence once more descended.

  “Again.”

  “I belong to you, body and soul.”

  Riana dipped her head and kissed Darias for all to see. It was a mark of pure possession. Her tongue darted inside his mouth and danced over the ridges in the roof of his mouth.

  Shivers raced over the exposed flesh of his chest, and a deep shudder racked his muscles. His hips flexed involuntarily.

  Riana pulled back, and he groaned.

  She stood up, and held one hand down to Darias.

  He stared at it for a moment then back up at her before finally placing his hand in hers. His huge paw swallowed hers as she helped him stand.

  He stumbled for a second before finding his balance. Within minutes, the full effect of the nerve pinch would wear off.

  She owed the good lieutenant a bottle of his favorite wine. She smiled. Perhaps she’d get Sharri to deliver it for her.

  “Do you uphold your end of the wager or are you without honor?” she goaded when he remained mute.

  The cords in his throat pulsed violently at the taunt. He turned to the crowd.

  “I give you the Supreme Chief of Nexar.” Muted rumbles threatened to get out of control. Darias raised his hand.

  Riana was impressed with the quick obedience of his warriors, especially considering the circumstances.

  “I gave my word. Nexar is no longer ruled by men. We will obey our women and give them the same respect we have commanded.” He held his hand out to Gaith, a silent order to hand over the Badge of Rank.

  Only Riana saw the fine tremor in his fingers as he slipped the pendant—a dragon in flight, gaping jaws open in a roar—over her head.

  Darias slowly knelt before her, his head bowed.

  Riana stared at the lowered head. She’d done it. She was free. The women of Nexar were free, chattel no more. “Kneel to your mistresses, men,” she ordered, her command ringing from one end of the Great Hall to the other. One by one, resistance and resentment eloquent in the posture, the warriors of Nexar went down on bended knee in front of the women.

  “From this day forward, wife, not husband, will rule the home and the land. If currently a leman, she may chose a husband from any single man she pleases. A man is not allowed to serve two mistresses, but a woman may have a husband and as many slaves as she wishes. The current laws and punishments will hold sway, only modified to reflect the change of status.” Riana looked up, acknowledging for the first time the vidscreens that connected the rest of the country-state to the Great Hall. “No man is too lowborn nor too highborn to be exempt from this decree.

  “Now clear this Hall. Go home and prepare to greet your new mistress in a manner that befits her station. Before you leave, turn over your Badge of Rank to your wife or mistress. Unclaimed men give your Badge to Bryta, my first-in-command.” Riana turned toward Darias. “Go wait in my chambers until I send for you.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw as he spun about on heel and stalked with the grace of a hunting panthra to the stairs.

  In a surprisingly short amount of time, the Great Hall was cleared of men, and Riana sat, ensconced, in Darias’ chair, at the head of the Council table. She stroked the aged, gleaming wood of the arms. The chair felt good, almost as good as her chair on the Midnight Mischief.

  She’d done it. She’d really done it. She now ruled Darias instead of the other way around. She allowed herself a moment to savor that fact. A babble of feminine voices assaulted her ears as the women in the room tried to get her attention at same time.

  Unfortunately, that meant she also ruled Nexar.

  A plan. She needed a plan. Biting her lip to keep the incipient panic from erupting into full-blown, I-want-to-leave-the-planet-now panic, Riana decided to tackle the situation the same way she would when planning an extended trade mission.

  One step at a time.

  The first step was to learn as much as possible about the running of Nexar. She flashed the women a reassuring smile and prayed they couldn’t see her pulse tripping at light speed. “Now, first and foremost, we need to familiarize ourselves with the rules governing Nexar.” She tapped at the keyboard embedded in the table. Large letters flashed across the recessed screen. ACCESS DENIED. PASSWORD REQUIRED.

  “Does anyone know the access code for the computer?” A frown tugged at her brow as a kernel of knowledge tried to work its way to the forefront of her mind. Almost as if she were missing something key. She gave a mental shrug when it continued to hover just out of reach. Whatever it was would come to her sooner or later.

  Bryta, on Riana’s right, cleared her throat. “No.” She glanced at the other women, encouraged by their silent support. “The Supreme Chief, I mean, Darias, was the only one with full access.”

  Of course he was. The man was a flipping control freak. Chagrined at having to ask for his help this early in the game, she motioned to a tall statuesque woman. “You, there, by the door. Escort Darias to me.” Riana was furious with herself. Where were her brains? She should have realized he would never leave a system as important as the government’s computer unprotected. She should have gotten the password before dismissing him. Sharri would laugh herself silly at her predicament. She’d often chided Riana for being too detail oriented.

  Boot heels rang out against the stone, loud in a room filled with slipper-clad women, as Darias strode into the huge room. He bowed his head as he came to a halt. The gesture stopped just short of insolent.

  “You sent for me, my lady?” Even his question, on the surface proper, spoke of his controlled rage.

  “What is the access code for Nexar’s main computer?”

  “I am a slave, my lady, and unworthy of such knowledge.”

  “Until an hour ago, you were Supreme Chief and the only one with the knowledge.” Riana began drumming her fingers on the chair arm.

  His eyes focused on the betraying gesture.

  She stopped immediately.

  “An hour ago I was not a slave.”

  “You gave me your word as Supreme Chief and warrior to obey.”

  “As slave, I have no knowledge of the information you request. As warrior
, it is my duty to deny you that information.”

  “Was your duty,” she reminded him. “You are no longer a warrior, but a slave. My slave.”

  Several men drifted in from the hallway, no longer trying to remain unobtrusive. The anticipation from both the women and men around her simmered on the air. The women, aware that his actions were a deliberate affront to her authority, were waiting to see if she had the nerve to punish him as he deserved. The men, on the other hand, silently smug at Darias’ use of his new slave status to thwart her, were anticipating her failure in this, her first real challenge as Supreme Chief. Well, they would just have to wait. Despite the men of Nexar’s beliefs that women were weak, she was more than up to this game of wills.

  “Wait for me in the garden,” Riana continued with deceptive gentleness. She glanced at the two strapping women standing on either side of Darias. “Escort him to my garden and stand guard.” She had the pleasure of seeing pure rage spring to life in his gold eyes before he could control it. She watched him leave, admiring his arrogance even as she vowed to crush it out of him.

  “Does that mean we can’t get in the computer system unless he gives us the password?” one woman asked.

  “No.” She thumped her clenched fist on the arm of the chair. “I should have foreseen this.” She took a deep breath. “We’ll get into the computer system. It’ll just take us a little time.” Conscious of the eyes filled with trust looking to her to solve this dilemma, Riana felt a little sick, but she gave them a bold smile. The first tenet of a good captain was to project confidence, even when she didn’t know the freaking hell what to do. Although handy with computers, she didn’t have a clue what code the system was based upon and without that knowledge or the proper tools… “Of course! My ship.”

  “Riana?”

  “I’ll use my ship’s computer to interface with this one. Come with me.” Excitement raced through her veins. Now, if only the Midnight Mischief wasn’t too badly damaged. Riana mentally crossed her fingers.

  * * * * *

  Her hopes rose as she surveyed her vessel. It was even better than she’d dared dream. Apart from some minor hull damage, her ship appeared in remarkable condition. The fierce ion storm had not seriously impaired the outer structure.

  Riana placed her palm next to the hatch. A prickle of energy washed over her, the automated intruder defense—designed to activate the minute she physically left the ship—checking her bio-signs against those in its memory banks. That tingle would knock an unauthorized person unconscious. The door slid open with a mechanized hiss.

  The new members of the Council crowded around outside the door, not able to muster the nerve to enter. Riana hoped their timidness soon dissipated or the men would walk all over them, Darias’ decree notwithstanding.

  Inside, items were strewn everywhere, including her precious bound books. Tenderly retrieving her favorite, The Damsel and the Dragon, she held it against her chest as she gathered clothes, holobook crystals and whatever else she thought she might need and crossed to the helm. Her arms full, she surveyed the array of equipment for external damage and found none. Here went nothing.

  “Computer, status.”

  “Memory wipe to historical database 0115, files damaged in geological database 7114. Anti-grav system unstable due to partial loss of programming,” came the masculine voice of her computer, Barney.

  Damn. It had taken her two weeks and fifteen thousand credits to wheedle the historical data on the Kalipse star system. Difficult, secretive and paranoid, the Kalisids were masters at creating several of the unique items her customers craved. But one had to approach them properly. One misstep in the complicated, two-day greeting ceremony and you were toast.

  “What about the rest of the systems?”

  “Nominal.”

  Oh well, once she shook the dust of this planet from her feet, she could hunt down the good lieutenant and again prevail on him to use his sources to obtain the information she needed on the Kalipse system. Dumping the armload of clothes, holobooks and assorted other clutter on the chair, Riana paused only long enough to send a message to Sharri that she was okay and would contact her soon. Spotting her palm computer still in its docking station, she disconnected it and added it to her growing pile of belongings. Then, her stuff in one arm, and the ancient book tucked securely under the other, she exited the ship.

  “All right, ladies. Now we see just what secrets the men have kept from you.” She held up the small computer in a sign of victory then led the small procession back inside the massive stone structure.

  Less than an eye blink after connecting the computer to the terminal in the Great Hall, she had full access. Page after page of rules, punishments and exceptions appeared on her screen. It was amazing the amount of detail that went into governing the behavior of women. More than went into governing the entire country-state, that was for certain. One section in particular caught her eye.

  “Why that sorry bastard,” she muttered, staring in disbelief at the screen. “He made me believe he was unaffected by the punishment.” She looked up. “Did any of you realize that the men take a potion before punishment?”

  All the women looked puzzled.

  “A potion to make them immune to sexual stimulation during punishment,” she clarified. They shook their heads. “It is the reason they are able to remain detached.” Riana watched as anger replaced puzzlement in the women’s eyes. She could almost see the fire shoot from them. “So I guess that means you didn’t know they coat their hands with a stimulant, either? One that forces a woman to respond whether she wants to or not?” No wonder she hadn’t been able to restrain her reactions to Darias’ touch from the first moment she’d met him. The sorry bastard had left nothing to chance.

  “No. But it explains how I can be so angry and hurt and still not be able to separate my mind and body from what Jaric is doing to me.” It was the woman who’d escorted Darias to her, a tall statuesque brunette with snapping brown eyes.

  Riana ducked her head to hide a grin. She had a feeling she need not worry any longer about the men walking all over the women. Maybe she ought to be more concerned about the men. She had a sneaking suspicion they were in for a pretty rough time. She snorted. Served them right.

  The women looked from one to the other.

  “Where do we get this potion?” Bryta asked the question Riana could see on all their faces. Her friend, it seemed, had been reluctantly elected spokeswoman for the group.

  Riana allowed a slow, feral smile to spread across her face. “We already have it.” She took pity of their confusion. “The badges contain both the suppressant and the stimulant. No wonder they were so reluctant to hand them over. Probably scared to death we’d discover their secret.” A chuckle started down low and worked its way up as the irony of the situation hit Riana. The symbol of the women’s new power also held their most powerful weapon. “Can you just imagine the thoughts that must be zipping through their skulls? How uneasy they must be, knowing we are attempting to break through the computer’s guards?”

  “I’ll make Timoth more than uneasy,” one woman muttered before a slow smile of anticipation curved her full lips.

  “I just bet you will.” And she wouldn’t be alone, not if the expressions on the faces of the other women were any indication.

  * * * * *

  Well into late afternoon, Riana put a hand on her lower back and stretched. Massaging the sharp pain in her back from sitting too long, she stared at the computer screen.

  Well, well, well. No wonder Darias had been so adamant about not approaching the Far Islands. She tapped one finger on the console and considered the implications of what she’d found. She’d stumbled across a hidden, triple-protected folder. Intrigued by the care he’d taken to protect and hide the folder, she’d spent over an hour unlocking his security. And discovered his very interesting personal journal.

  “Bryta, have you heard of a leader called Saria?” She kept her voice low, not wanting the other
women to know just yet what she’d discovered.

  Bryta looked up from her own computer terminal, a frown of intense concentration on her face. “Hmm? Saria? No, I haven’t. That doesn’t sound like a Nexarian name.” She pushed a key and minimized the ledger she’d been studying, devoting her full attention to Riana.

  “It isn’t. It’s the name of the Supreme Chief of the Far Islands.”

  Her face cleared. “That explains it. No man here would have such a feminine-sounding name.”

  “Saria is a female.”

  “But that can’t be. You said Saria was Supreme Chief.”

  Riana tapped the computer stylus against her bottom lip. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “But that means…”

  “Yep. The Far Islands’ leader is a woman.” She made a note on her palm computer to contact Saria about commerce between their two country-states.

  “Men own women. It’s impossible.”

  “Evidently, not all women. Not for a long time, perhaps a century or more, if the journal is accurate.”

  “And Gaith knew this?” Sharp hurt darkened Bryta’s fine eyes.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. It is entirely possible he didn’t. The men of Nexar believe women incapable of running a household, much less an entire country-state. To discover that the Far Islands, a land with more natural resources than Nexar, is governed by a woman would run contrary to every belief they hold dear.” Her hand slowly closed into a fist. “Darias, however, did know. I’m willing to bet the entire cargo in my ship’s hold that it is the reason he refused to consider trade with the Far Islands. He couldn’t trade with a woman on equal basis and keep the respect of his warriors.” Her knuckles shone white as she clenched her fist tighter. “And, more than that, he dare not let word spread that the women of the Far Islands are free.”

  Bryta’s gaze homed in on the betraying movement.