by Tana Stone
Chapter Two
Ch 2
Sienna
I pulled my honey-brown hair up in a bun so tight it tugged at the corners of my eyes. When I flinched from the pain, I released my vise-like grip on my hair.
“Your hair isn’t the one you want to hurt,” I whispered to my reflection in the warped mirror, meeting my own hazel eyes and glancing quickly away.
No, I wanted to take my anger out on the village delegates who’d decided that only males could learn to fight. Right after I took it out on my father for being so drunk all the time that he didn’t care what was happening or pay attention to his two daughters.
Not that my father would have taken my side anyway. When he wasn’t drinking the disgusting fermented algae that was the local liquor, he was in lock step agreement with his friends who served as ministers for the planet. He, like them, believed that it was the males who should rule the families and defend the planet, while the females tended the homes and children.
“Yeah, right,” I whispered darkly under my breath.
I had no intention of getting married and having a family, especially since I’d seen firsthand how badly that could end up. I opened the top drawer of my dresser, sneaking a peek at the pencil sketch of my mother I hid there. I touched the weathered paper, making sure not to smudge the charcoal lines. Having a family had literally killed my mother, and I had no desire to end up like her—dead and erased.
I slid the drawer shut quietly. My father didn’t allow any images of my mother in the house, but I kept this one tucked away so I wouldn’t forget what she looked like. The more years that passed from her death, the harder it was to recall her face without the drawing as a reminder. I also hid it so it wouldn’t hurt my sister, since my mother had died giving birth to her. No matter how many times I told her that it wasn’t her fault, I knew Juliette didn’t believe me.
A choked snore from the living room made me stop moving. I held my breath as my father shifted on the couch and then resumed snoring. He’d fallen asleep in the living room after drinking too much—as usual. I honestly didn’t know why he even bothered having a bedroom since he never made it to the bed.
Glancing at the sun peeking over the pointy mountain spires and streaming into my window, I groaned. My father would be late for his shift again, not that I was going to dare wake him up. He didn’t like being reminded that he was constantly late for the only job that he could hold on to— cleaning fish down by the shore. It was smelly, disgusting work that few people wanted to do, which meant that they wouldn’t fire him when he continued to show upon late or not at all.
I drew in a deep breath. The only advantage to him missing work was that he didn’t bring the smell of the shallows back with him. The only scent filling our dwelling now was the aroma of Juliette’s bread and baked goods. Although I couldn’t hear her in the kitchen, the smell of yeast and sugar told me that she’d been up since before dawn baking. The sunlight also told me that she’d probably already left our dwelling.
My stomach growled, and I hoped she’d saved a roll for me. She usually did, although lately she’d been annoyed with me, and one way she showed her irritation was by not leaving me one of her pastries before taking them down to the village to sell.
Guilt gnawed at me as I turned from the mirror and tugged on my boots. I hated when Juliette was upset with me. Since we were tiny, it had always been the two of us against the world. Or at least against our father. He’d fallen apart after our mother had died and had left us to fend for ourselves most of the time. We’d learned to rely on each other instead of him, and had always been close, despite how different we were.
But lately, she’d been more and more impatient with me. Especially since the Vandar had arrived. My breath caught in my throat when I thought about the huge, muscular alien who’d been exiled to live in our village. Corvak was the name that they whispered in the village square or behind closed doors, and he was so different from anyone I’d ever seen that I couldn’t keep my eyes from tracking his every move.
Not that he’d done much moving since he’d arrived. After stalking off the Vandar ship, the bare-chested, tailed alien who wore nothing but a leather skirt and boots, had disappeared into the dwelling he’d been assigned and only emerged once or twice. His rough appearance had caused plenty of whispers, as had the black markings on his chest and the axe he wore on his belt. Neither humans or Kimitherians marked their bodies or carried weapons. We also covered most of our skin, and our males wore their hair short, not long and wild like the Vandar.
Unlike most of the villagers who knew everything about each other, the Vandar had made no effort to socialize. Not that I blamed him. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled to be here, and I heard he’d been reluctant when two of the planet’s ministers had asked him to train our males in battle. But he’d finally agreed, and today was the first day of the training.
“And I’m going to be there,” I said, pulling a long cloak off a hook near the arched door and throwing it over my shoulders. I didn’t care that only the young males of the planet had been invited to train. I was going to show up and hope that the Vandar wasn’t as backward as everyone on my planet.
My heart thumped in my chest as I walked from my bedroom to the large room that held the living room, dining area, and kitchen. The ceiling was curved overhead, cut into the gray stone of mountain, with triangular windows looking out toward the path curving down to the square. Sheer curtains flapped in the open windows, keeping out most of the dust but letting in fresh air. Guilt twisted my gut again when I spotted the bunch of thistles in a vase under one of the windows. Juliette tried so hard to make our shabby dwelling look nice while my father did nothing to help, and I used every excuse to stay away as much as I could.
Even though the room didn’t smell like fish—courtesy of my father missing work the day before—the scent of the open bottle of fermented algae mingled with the savory smells of baking. I wrinkled my nose as I spotted the lump that was my father flopped across the couch, his bare feet dangling over one end and a scratchy blanket covering the rest of him. Only his unkept, sandy brown hair poked above the covers. My sister had no doubt covered him when she’d gotten up to bake. I could imagine her tiptoeing around the kitchen, trying to mix her batters while not waking him. If he did wake, he wouldn’t be grateful that his youngest daughter made enough money with her talent to make up for his lousy and sporadic pay. He would yell at her for being too loud.
I scowled as I thought about his raised voice echoing off the stone of our dwelling, then I spotted the plate of bread on the stone counter, and my anger melted away, replaced by a swell of affection for my little sister. She hadn’t forgotten me or decided to punish me.
“Thank you, Juliette,” I whispered, snatching one of the golden rolls of bread and taking a greedy bite.
Walking on the toes of my boots, I passed my father without giving him another glance and ducked out the front door. When I was safely outside our dwelling, I polished off the rest of the bread, savoring the pillowy roll as I headed down toward the square. The suns were higher now and mine weren’t the only footsteps on the stone path as I rushed around a corner.
“Sienna!”
I grabbed the cloaked figure’s arms to keep from knocking her over. Even with the hood shadowing her face, I would know that voice anywhere. “Hey, Juliette.”
She threw back her hood and eyed me. “Where are you going?”
I glanced down at her empty basket and tried to change the subject. “You sold out already?”
Even though blonde curls framed her heart-shaped face, she looked anything but angelic at the moment. “Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.” I held her gaze with just as much intensity as she held mine.
Finally, she let out a sigh. “You can’t be serious, Sienna.”
“Why not?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Just because I’m a female? It’s ridiculous. I’
ll bet I can fight better than half those boys.”
Juliette’s blue eyes didn’t waver, but she lowered her voice as she glanced around. “Probably, but that doesn’t matter. You know what the ministers would say—not to mention our father.”
I let out an indignant huff. “He doesn’t get a say in what I do. I’ll bet the man doesn’t even know how old I am.”
“He knows you’re old enough to get married.”
I glared at her. This again? “I’ve told you. I’m not marrying Donal just because everyone else wants me to.”
“But you know what will happen if you reject the son of an important minister.” Juliette glanced at the nearest set of windows and pulled me farther away from them.
I did know but I refused to answer her. Instead, I pressed my lips together.
“His family is powerful, Sienna. If you marry Donal, you’d never have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.”
Except for Donal touching me, I thought, shivering unconsciously.
“You’d get out of the house,” she added.
Juliette knew that was the only thing that could possibly entice me, but still it wasn’t enough. “I’ve told you before. I don’t want to marry Donal. I don’t love him, and I don’t want to be the wife of some minister. If you’re so crazy about the idea, why don’t you marry him?”
She leaned forward. “He doesn’t want me.”
“I don’t know why not. You’re prettier than me, and you can bake.” This was true. I had no clue why the arrogant minister’s son had set his sights on me, when I had never shown him even a flicker of interest.
Juliette glanced down at herself. “Maybe he doesn’t like chubby girls.”
“You aren’t chubby,” I said, an urge to defend my little sister making me almost forget that we were arguing. “Did someone call you that? You’ve got curves, that’s all. I wouldn’t mind having some of your curves.”
That was also true. While my younger sister was curvy in all the right places—not chubby, thank you very much—I had an athletic build. It was yet another reason I didn’t know why Donal had fixated on me. I wasn’t particularly girly, and had never bothered trying to be pretty.
Juliette laughed. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. I can’t give you some of my curves, and I can’t force Donal to like me instead of you.”
“Too bad.”
My sister’s smile faded. “It is. If our family fortunes are dependent on you being a dutiful wife, we’re in trouble.”
“Our family fortunes are being drunk away every night,” I said. “I shouldn’t have to sacrifice myself to save the family.”
She flinched from my sharp words, and I immediately regretted them, especially since she was the one who did so much to keep us afloat.
“You know I’ll do anything for you but that,” I said.
She nodded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll finally offend Donal enough that he decides he doesn’t want you.”
“I can’t believe I haven’t already.”
“You’re not the only one,” Juliette mumbled.
I swatted at her. “Hey!”
Juliette smiled at me, then her expression became serious. “Don’t go down there, Sienna. You’re only going to be disappointed.”
I cut my eyes to the square, which was filling with people. I didn’t see the Vandar, but I suspected he was already at the amphitheater. “You don’t know that. Corvak might be different. He might not think females are only good for marrying.”
Her eyebrow quirked up. “Corvak?”
My cheeks warmed. “I heard some people talking about him. That’s his name, isn’t it?”
Juliette shrugged but appraised me with narrowed eyes. “I guess. I doubt I’ll have much reason to know it. He seems to keep to himself.”
“Well, I’ll need to know his name. He’s going to teach me how to fight like a warrior.”
My sister let out another long sigh. “Even if he wanted to, the ministers would never allow it. Females on Kimithion III don’t fight.”
The reality of her words made my shoulders sag. She was right. Even if the Vandar agreed to it, the ministers never would. And I couldn’t even count on my father to take my side. He’d agree with the other males. Then anger flared fresh inside me.
Ever since a small group of human refugees had been allowed to join the native Kimitherians and share the planet, we’d been obliged to follow the established rules and traditions, even though they were stricter than what the original settlers had been used to on Earth. Still, our ancestors had been so grateful to have a planet to share—and one that wasn’t overcrowded or stripped of resources like Earth had been—that they agreed to the morality strictures and the male-dominated social structure. It was a trade-off I cursed on a regular basis.
“They’ll have to know I’m a female to stop me,” I said, flipping my hood up and ducking my head. “This is one time when me not having curves will pay off. No one will know I’m a female in this.”
“Sienna—”
I clutched my sister’s hands before she could admonish me again. “Please, Juliette. Just don’t tell on me. I think this is something I’d do really well. You have your baking, but I don’t have anything I’m good at like that. Not yet. I need to know if this is my thing. Please don’t tell on me. Cross your heart.” I made a criss cross motion over my chest with one finger. “Hope to die.”
She shook her head. “You and your vintage Earth sayings.” She might not love old Earth slang as much as I did—or feel the need to maintain some sort of connection to our home world—but she still gave me a reluctant smile. “Fine, but only because I won’t have to. It’s not going to work.”
That was good enough for me. “I still have to try.” I released her hands and backed away.
“And if father asks where you are?” she called after me.
“You know he won’t,” I said as I turned, the truth in my words stinging even though it shouldn’t have after all this time.
“Sienna,” Juliette said, her tone urgent.
I stopped and twisted my head back to meet her gaze. “What?”
She gave me a reluctant grin. “Good luck. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”
I beamed at her, waving as I backed up faster. “Thanks, sis!”
I bustled down the path, bolstered by my sister’s encouragement. It wasn’t going to be easy. She’d been right about that. Not only did I have to fool the Vandar into thinking I was a male, but I also had to hide my face from all the other fighters.
But I didn’t care. My sister believed in me—well, she’d wished me good luck, which was almost the same thing. A laugh of excitement burbled up in my throat, and my heart pounded as I raced down the path getting closer and closer to the village square.
One way or another, I was going to get the Vandar raider to teach me how to fight. And I was going to be the best warrior he’d ever trained. He just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Three
Ch 3
Corvak
I took long steps in front of the males assembled in the dusty amphitheater, my tail swishing behind me. If I hadn’t already been regretting my agreement to teach the residents of Kimithion III, I was now. The amphitheater wasn’t more than a succession of ringed rows of stone benches surrounding an open area—more of a gladiator ring than anything. But the males assembled in front of me were anything but gladiators.
What did I really expect? They were a nonviolent planet that had no standing army and no defense systems. They’d never been trained to fight or even considered it, despite their long lives.
I squinted into the suns that were above the top of the amphitheater and were now beating down on the cracked ground. I let out a hot breath, inhaling briny air in exchange. It was a hard thing for me to imagine since battle had been my life, but I tried to remind myself that not everyone was Vandar as I appraised the males who’d shown up to be trained.
“Not by a long shot,” I
whispered, eyeing the shabby and scrawny males lined up in front of me.
There was a mix of humans and Kimitherians, but they all wore cloaks to protect them from the suns, so I only saw glimpses of blue scales or flashes of skin in a variety of shades from beneath drooping hoods. Even with the coverings, it was easy to tell that none of the volunteers were bulky, and I almost instantly gave up on the concept of teaching them to fight with Vandar battle axes. The poor creatures wouldn’t be able to lift the heavy iron weapons off the ground.
“Tvek.” I cursed under my breath, but noticed a few hoods lifting.
Okay, Corvak, I told myself. You were battle chief of a Vandar horde. You fought off imperial attacks and coordinated offensive strategies that are still being talked about in hushed tones throughout the galaxy. You can do this.
“Let’s start with a basic assessment,” I said, bracing my hands on my hips to face the group. “How many of you have engaged in hand-to-hand combat?”
A few hands went up, but even those seemed unsure. I fought the urge to sigh again. If I was the kind to bet, I would have put money that the combat these males claimed to have seen involved skirmishes with unruly siblings on the living room floor.
“Then we will start at the beginning, so everyone understands the basics of fighting strategy.”
“When do we get weapons?” The voice came from the front row, a human male who met my eyes from under his hood. He was one of the taller males, and he appeared to be smirking as he looked at me.
“When you can prove to me you are ready for them,” I snapped, glancing away from him.
“What if some of us are ready?”
I swung my gaze back to him. There was always one in every bunch. Too arrogant. Too cocky. When I’d been much younger, that had been me. I thought about my own training as an apprentice on a Vandar horde. The relentless and punishing standards of the Raas and all the raiders had knocked the brazen confidence from me—at least most of it. This human needed to be knocked down a peg or two.