by Rena Marks
I remember being in Tessa’s dance room at the caves in the other village. The human females were teaching me what is called self-defense. They say the males in their village are honed to fight, but because females are so protected, they must learn other tricks in case they are ever with a male who is injured or unconscious. These techniques are from their mother planet, and at the time, they seemed ridiculous to learn. However, right now, the moves become automatic and fluid.
When both females rush me, I do the unexpected. Instead of striking one and allowing the other to hit me, I feint.
I strike from below, kicking out my legs to trip them. When Misha goes down, I kick her in the head to stun her.
When Shen’robi tangles her fist in my braid, I use my forehead to bash hers, stunning her. She is not used to the aggression, and her eyes blink in surprise. It buys me the couple of seconds I need to hit her with my curled fist.
Misha is struggling to rise, so I wind my tail around her throat and squeeze. When Shen’robi reaches out to try to rip my tail from around Misha’s neck, I quickly grab hers. My feet lock onto her back to kick her away, and I use all the strength in my arms to yank.
It detaches from her body with an arterial spurt of blood that surges in time with the beats of her pulse. She shrieks unholy murder while Misha gasps and struggles, hoping to draw air where there is none.
No one can intervene. No one can step within the confines of our ring. I watch as long moments go by, though in reality, it is probably not as long as it feels.
Misha has grown still underneath the hold of my tail, and I know it won’t be long before she moves on to the next world.
One of the elders is yelling to Shen’robi to end the challenge. Funny that. Had it been me wrestled to unconsciousness, no one would end the challenge. But because offspring are becoming rare and our tribe grows smaller, Shen’robi has the option to save both of their lives.
I tighten my tail, wondering if she will concede too late for Misha.
“Concede,” she snarls, her voice thick with pain.
I release my tail. Misha shudders in a long, gagging breath that chokes.
Jonanth, their slave, enters the ring and presses a wad of leather to Shen’robi’s backside as she whimpers and snarls. Others enter and help Misha to a sitting position. I stand on my own suddenly shaking legs.
I am covered in blood. The polished rock floor is slippery; the blood still warm from where it spilled. My fists are clenched, and the floor holds chunks of hair soaked with blood. Funny. I don’t even remember any of us pulling each other’s hair.
I feel two strong presences behind me, and I know it is Atan and Diont.
“It is over? I thought it was a fight to the death,” Atan says.
I snort. “My death. Shen’robi and Misha had the option to concede. Shen’robi will claim she saved Misha’s life, thereby sealing her loyalty for the rest of her life, when what she really did was save her own life from bleeding out of her ass.” I love that I can speak freely in their language without anyone else understanding us. It will suck when the other side is given the gift of language.
My brother, along with our supporters, steps into our group. “Congratulations,” he says, brushing my forehead with his swiftly before hardening once more into the chief that he is. “You have won the right to two more males.” He smiles as he pats Diont on the back first then Atan.
“Eretar,” Tshaby says. “If that wasn’t a show of a superior bloodline’s fighting skills, I don’t know what is.”
“Thank you. But if you all don’t mind, I think I’ll show Diont and Atan the cleansing pool.”
I hold out my bloody hands, which suddenly disgust me. This is why I gave up my reign and chose the role of healer.
Chapter Five
Diont:
Coming from a village where females are rare is completely opposite of Eretar’s tribe. First of all, her females are utterly glorious. They are tall, sleek, and graceful, similar to Tessa, who is tightly muscled from her dance. I never knew swimming daily could produce such graceful, wet, goddesses in abundance.
These magnificent creatures lounge on smooth, carved rock while the males of the tribe cater to their whims, fanning the steam from the hotter pools with large ferns. Feeding their precious females when they are hungry. Taking the children off to play so the mothers can relax. I would love to cater to Eretar, however, she and a handful of others seem to be the exception. I have figured out the dynamics of their tribe. Those who think like Eretar sway to her side of the cave. Those who wish to be the princesses who abuse males flock to the opposite end.
I nudge Atan with my elbow; a subtle reminder to close his slack jaw. Like me, he is stunned by the overabundance of females in the underground caves.
We just have never seen so many feminine bodies all in one place.
Shen’robi and Misha are nowhere about though their people glare as we walk by on our return from the bathing pool where we cleaned every inch of our mate. It is amazing to see the jealousy, considering Eretar just kicked both of their leaders’ asses not an hour earlier. I would not be so eager to tangle with her again.
Eretar wears a soft, worn leather tunic that hangs to mid-thigh. Atan carries her wet clothing that we washed and wrung out in the pool. When we get to her quarters, we will lay it out to dry.
When we are finally in her outer suite of caves, her brother and some others wait. I recognize them as her supporters from the challenge. Eretar emerged from the battle with a few scratches and some bumps and bruises but nothing major.
“How are the other two?” she asks a female, then translates for our benefit.
The other shrugs. “They’ll live. Misha was pale and shaky for a bit but has revived. Shen’robi has been stitched.”
Eretar looks pensive after translation. “I hope she is not too injured,” she says, staying in our language.
“Why?” Atan asks.
“My plan is to have that group head back to your village. I would like to have all of my supporters and any others who are on the fence alone here so I can sway them toward the changes I wish to make. Such as me living in your village and visiting here to make sure my brother rules in my stead.”
Atan gives a short bark of laughter, though there is nothing humorous about it. “And here I thought you were worried over her health.”
“That bitch?” Eretar raises a royal blue eyebrow, and Atan and I both snicker.
She turns to her people and explains details in their language. There are several who nod their heads.
“Let us go to my room deeper in the cave,” she says to me and Atan. “This group will watch the entrance to make sure we aren’t disturbed by the others.”
In her personal quarters, there is a nest that is larger than life. Certainly big enough for three. It is fur lined, but the coverings are unlike the furs of my tribe. The furs here are from water animals and are sleekly soft instead of thick.
“Look at the size of that,” Atan teases. I am glad he is loosening up around us. “You always sensed you’d have two mates one day.”
Eretar grins and kisses him. “From the first moment I saw the two of you.”
I plop onto her nest to watch them kiss. Then Atan tugs her down, scooting up to the wall where I sit. Eretar lies between us, her head on his chest and her legs twining with mine. My hand rests on the curve of her buttock as her tail curls lazily behind her.
“I thought we were fighting to the death,” Eretar says. “But now that Shen’robi conceded, I have a dilemma.”
“What dilemma is that?” I ask.
“Shen’robi may be too injured to walk for a long journey. And I need all of them gone so I can work on the elders left behind about change. When I return to your village with my supporters and the elders, I will be able to show them a new way of life in your village. I want them to know they can make the choice of returning and changing our ways or staying with your people.”
“We can stay for a few more
days,” Atan says.
“It’ll probably be a lot longer than that before she can move comfortably. And if you wait longer than a few days, you will run into the cold front that Drakar says is moving in.”
Our king frequently sends others to the alien ship-shuttle for weather updates. Once in a while, the human females also request a replication of an item. I look forward to Eretar’s next trip when she can be present. She will find the voyage fascinating.
And then I get an idea. “How about if Shen’robi cannot resist making the journey?”
Eretar’s smile is smug. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll hate having to stay behind when she could have the two of you alone for such a journey. But being unable to walk—”
“Who says she has to walk? Suppose someone made a suggestion that she already has one slave male to tote her around…”
Atan narrows his eyes. “We can offer to take turns carrying the other end of the travois with her slave. How tantalizing would that be for her?”
My smile is wide. “Yes, you should carry the bottom. She is quite enamored with the view of your chest.”
“Which is why I said we should take turns.” His voice is a mock growl.
“And should she get a little too lippy, make sure you bounce the travois a bit.” Eretar grins. “But seriously, you will have to make her think it’s her idea. If she gets any idea that we want them all gone, she’ll make sure to stay.”
“Don’t worry. We got this, my little hellcat,” Atan says.
“I feel sorry for the male who must cater to her and Misha,” I say.
“As do I,” Atan agrees. “Why does your tribe treat others so badly?”
“I’m not sure,” Eretar says. “It’s been this way my entire lifetime. Because our women outnumber men, it was acceptable in the past for another woman’s mate to impregnate a single woman to keep the tribe going. However, in the last decade, our females have become rather jealous.” She shrugs. “I do not understand it. We treat the child as a separate entity, not as part of a new family unit. Think of it as a donor father, instead. We do not have families, with siblings, such as in your village. I was fascinated the morning I talked with Naag. I could tell how much he loves you.”
“It is the same with you and your brother.”
“We are the exception because of our royal line. For that one reason, we were allowed to be siblings together. But in your village, they raise families like this all the time. It is fascinating. This is what I want our people to see. That there is another way of life.”
“And why does Shen’robi believe she is from a royal lineage?”
“During my parent’s generation when males were more plentiful, a male impregnated a female and wanted to mate with her, but she was not ready to settle. She was beautiful and young and had innumerable suitors at her beck and call. At that time, there was already some practice of sharing males. In a moment of spite that would haunt him the rest of his life, he deliberately chose another as his mate. He did it backward. And it was not anyone, mind you, but a rival of Jessra, the one who wished to remain single. Anukarobi, his new mate, in her hormonal pregnancy, grew bitter with knowing Jessra’s son would be born first. Jessra was always first in all things while Anukarobi was second best. She had two infants who had passed, and he began to help raise the first-born boy who was from Jessra. I believe he regretted his haste in mating Anukarobi instead of waiting for Jessra. The raising of his first son was perfectly casual; all village males took boys under their wings because our males were becoming rare. But it was too much for the distraught mate. It caused great division, and she was convinced that he favored Jessra’s son over hers. She became convinced that he wished to throw aside their mating for Jessra. Those who sympathized with the boy thought he should have his father’s direction. And those who sympathized with Anukarobi, who’d lost so many children and was now fragile and carrying again, began to whisper about Jessra and her son. Anukarobi grew harsh and even more bitter even when the birth of her infant came. It was another disappointment, you see. Because while Jessra bore a son, Anukarobi would bear a daughter. She showed no interest in the child, and one day she left the tribe, never to return. Many believed she sat out all night as a sacrifice for the night creatures.” Eretar shivers at the suicide story. “Naturally the husband grew closer to the single mother of his child. After motherhood, she was ready to settle. This created even more controversy as many wondered if his wife’s suicide was perhaps encouraged by him so that he could have a second mating. And in his own guilt, he was not close to the daughter he fathered with Anukarobi. It fueled more rumors as the girl was raised by the other females of the tribe.
“It was a long time ago, but it set a new way, a new tone for our tribe. I would love for things to go back to the way they were before this event. Where we do not have such jealousies, especially since there is an imbalance of sexes. But the jealousies grew from there. Some say the lone female child from the mating of Anukarobi and Seglar, Shen’robi, was spoiled to make up for being unwanted. Others say she follows her mother’s tendencies with bitter hormones. The only one ever to challenge her has been me. She has been jealous of my lineage since we were small children.” My voice saddens. “You see, Seglar was my father’s cousin and carried the bloodline though it was so diluted he could not rule. But in today’s world, if something should happen to me and my brother, she would be all that’s left for the throne.”
“We’ll make sure that never happens,” Atan growls.
“So now you see why I need her gone. Without her presence, I can convince the elders that our tribe is dying without help. I can convince them that our ways of enslaving males have simply caused distress, and babies are becoming rarer. Plus, our ways of birthing are outdated, and we lose many mothers and babies. Our numbers can increase if we can just train on medical care.”
“I don’t like leaving you behind for even a short time,” Atan says.
“Yes, but I will be safe without any of her followers present.” Her voice turns sly. “And think of how much of a reunion that will be when I see my males again.”
She reaches out with both hands to grasp two quickly hardening cocks.
* * * * *
Atan:
Neither Diont nor I will give up Eretar. From the first moment I saw her, I knew she was the one for me. I knew he was just as interested. In the past, triads work because there is usually something to link two of the people. In the case of Tijar, Jeroc, and Tessa, it is Tijar and Jeroc’s relationship. They are best friends and have been since they were children.
Diont and I had no such friendship. In fact, when we once vied for the human Miranda’s affections, we were rivals. But with this relationship with Eretar? Our friendship grows. With him, I find no jealousies arise. I love to watch the look in Eretar’s eyes when we share her as if she cannot believe such a gift has manifested for her. I wish to bring that look to her always.
It goes against everything inside me to leave her here at her village.
The three of us enjoy a late lunch out in the open area of the main cavern. Afterward, we will make a show of working on making a travois as if we wish to carry glow rocks to our village. We will pretend that there is jealousy among us and Eretar has chosen Diont. Then we will plant the seed of using the travois to haul Shen’robi instead. She will be unable to resist if she thinks there is trouble between our three and she has the chance to make a play for one of us.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter to Diont.
“Nor do I,” he agrees.
“By taking nearly half of the tribe back to your village,” Eretar says, “it makes it much easier for me to speak directly to the ones left behind. Those who are supporters of my royal line. They won’t be tainted by the other side.”
I grunt my acknowledgment. It’s hard not to realize that anyone who wishes to harm her will be with us instead.
“On one condition,” I say. “If it doesn’t work, and the elders refuse to travel to get the l
anguage implant and learn of new customs, it negates everything. They will not want you to return after your trip for the ‘missed expedition’ to the shuttle. If that happens when we return, I will stay where you are.” I would never ask her to leave her people.
“I know,” Eretar says, cupping my jaw. The cooler warmth of her skin smells sweet and unique. “But I won’t have you as a slave to my people. This is why I need to garner the strength in numbers. Our tribe needs to make changes, changes concerning the way we treat our males. If they cannot, I will not subject the ones I love to their ways any longer.”
“We wish for you to mate us,” Diont says. “In the ways of my people. Would you like that, also?”
Her full bottom lip quivers. “I would love that. I love you. Both of you. Please be careful until I see you again.”
Diont captures her mouth in his, kissing her thoroughly, then he passes her to me. Her lips are warm and slightly swollen as I taste her next. She tastes of mint and honey, a delicious combination I will cherish.
“Be safe,” I whisper. “Until I see you again.”
“I cannot wait, my love.”
She pulls away regretfully. “Everyone who wishes to go, the guides are ready. They will wait for you to pack a few items of clothing. But it is important to leave shortly so you may reach a safe place for the night.”
Misha is in the cavern, though Shen’robi is not. She speaks out. “I thought in light of the challenge, they would wait a few turns of the sun? Or at least until morning?”
“Waiting is impossible.” Eretar’s face is unreadable. “One of the things the surface people wish to show us is the ability to predict when the weather changes.”
“How is that possible?” One of the elders asks.
“They are in possession of equipment from a traveling device. It has the capability to tell us when the weather changes. There are many wonderful things for us to learn. Please do not pass up on this opportunity that our brethren are willing to share with us.”