NO WORDS ALONE

by Autumn Dawn

  Not that he would tell her now. He wasn’t ready to give up that final bit of reserve, not until he was certain she would stay with him, even if given the chance to leave. Since he wouldn’t willingly provide that chance…the words would have to wait.

  He kept his thoughts hidden behind a pleasant manner. “We should send a message to your family. Our first child is news worth passing on.”

  She looked at him with interest for a moment then settled back into her funk. “Yes. That would be good.” She looked a little less gloomy than before.

  That wasn’t good enough. Determined to lift his wife’s spirits, he told her in more detail about taking over the Khun’tat queen’s ship, leaving out the goriest parts. But she was most interested in the Leo-Ahni, whom had been brought back into her thoughts.

  “Where is she now?”

  “I’d forgotten. I had other things on my mind—most notably, my wife.”

  Xera frowned in irritation, which Ryven still felt was an infinite improvement over moping. “Didn’t you think I would feel for the girl? We’re exactly alike!”

  Surprised, he said, “You’re not even of the same race! You’re married; she’s not. You’ve got rank and family and—”

  “Only lately!” Xera interrupted. “We’re both translators who’ve had sticky assignments—why are you frowning? You try translating for a bunch of hostile aliens! She’s lost and alone. I was like that for a little while. Maybe I can help her.”

  “I don’t want you anywhere near her. She was on the same ship as the Khun’tat, helping them.” His face darkened. “Men died because of her.”

  “She didn’t have a choice, though, right? She was stuck. Has she said anything new?”

  This was sore spot. His crew had managed to speed the girl toward healing, but her mind was another matter. She barely ate, still sat in a room and stared blankly at a wall. She wouldn’t talk to psychiatrists. They were afraid she’d try to take her own life, so they’d removed everything from her chamber and watched her carefully. There was no progress, which they badly wanted.

  “No. She doesn’t speak. Everyone who has tried to talk with her gives up in frustration.”

  “Well, were they all guys?” Xera asked.

  He looked at her askance. “Why would it matter?”

  She sighed. “Think of it from her perspective. Strange men, soldiers, keep invading her space, demanding answers. She’s already been trapped in a nightmare, kept isolated, just as she is now. Why should she trust you?”

  He considered for a moment. Some of his wife’s comments dovetailed with what the doctors had said. But, “How could you know what’s in her mind?”

  Xera scoffed. “I have two sisters, don’t I? And I keep trying to tell you, I was in her position. All kinds of horrible things go through your mind when you’re trapped like that.” Her lips tightened as memories obviously stirred in her mind. “She needs to know who the good guys are. I can help.”

  He thought about that for quite a while. Xera glanced at him from time to time, but otherwise held her peace. At last he said, “We can try you talking to her.”

  She grinned at him. “Thanks.” She was smart enough not to say anything else until they reached home.

  The girl sat on a mat with her eyes fixed on the wall. Her caramel-colored hair hung limp to her shoulders, the black-tipped ends partly screening her face. The tips of pointed ears poked out of her locks, proving she was neither human nor Scorpio. Her lids were half closed over dulled, catlike green eyes. She looked like the survivor of some horrific event.

  Xera didn’t try to talk to her at first; she just plopped down cross-legged in the girl’s line of sight and began a staring contest. It was a full minute before the girl’s eyes began to focus, as if she had to pull out of a deep, dark trance. At first she blinked, clearly surprised. Then her eyes widened.

  “You’re a woman! Drarfiquex!”

  “Well, of course I’m a woman. I don’t know what a drra-fix is, though. I hope it’s complimentary,” Xera replied calmly. She’d decided to treat the girl as she would one of her sisters. Hopefully that would be a good start. “My name is Xera.”

  The girl stared for a moment then spat out a rapid stream of words.

  “I’m afraid I don’t speak anything but Scorpio. Well, that’s not true; I speak about half a dozen languages, but none you’d know. I can curse in nine, but I’ll spare you a recital.”

  “Are you trapped here, too?” The girl looked around furtively, as if she guessed they were being watched.

  “Not anymore. Ryven rescued me from my crew. I was a translator for a ship that crashed. We were a long way from home and my captain hated me,” Xera said darkly.

  “Just like me,” the girl whispered. She looked barely younger than Xera chronologically, maybe in her late teens, but with her vulnerability she seemed younger.

  “Yes,” Xera replied. “Say, I’m hungry. Would you mind if I called for something to snack on? What do you like to eat?”

  The girl looked wary. Maybe she was afraid. She said, “Food is strange here. They bury it with spices that burn. They put thick liquids on it that smell strange.”

  “Huh. I guess everyone likes to eat different stuff,” Xera remarked. “What kind of food is best for you? I’d feel rude if I served you something you didn’t like.” She could see the girl was thin, and she really wanted her to eat. Besides, Xera herself was really hungry, thanks to the baby.

  The Leo-Ahni looked uncomfortable. “Fish and meats without…I don’t know the words.”

  “Sauces? How about some cooked meat and vegetables? Or do you like your veggies raw?”

  “What are veggies? Do you speak of plants? I’ve seen no edible plants here.”

  Xera held up a hand. “I have an idea. Give me a minute.” She went outside the door and asked Ryven, who was watching through a screen, “Favor, please. Could you send for some plain cooked food and a platter of raw fruits and vegetables? Maybe some bread and crackers, and that kind of stuff? Thanks.”

  “Fine. But stay on your guard. You’re too relaxed with her.”

  “Sure,” she said to placate him, and went back inside.

  The girl looked wary. “You work with them.”

  “I am one of them,” Xera admitted, leaning on one hand. “I married the Scorpio who rescued me. When I heard about you, I wanted to meet you. I thought we were a little alike.”

  The girl’s eyes dulled. “Were you forced into ser vice? Did your family make you a slave to the flesh eaters? We are not alike.” A light like hatred blazed in her eyes. It was an improvement over apathy, but Xera went on alert. She didn’t want the girl taking any rage out on her.

  “So, you were forced to help the Khun’tat? The Scorpio fear that your people are allies with them, that you want war.”

  The girl’s jaw clenched. “That’s not what I want.” Xera waited, but she didn’t say anything else.

  “So, you want to go home?”

  “No!” The girl sat bolt upright. “Don’t send me! They’ll only make me serve again. Once a person is marked, they can never go home.”

  Xera held up her hands, palm out. “Okay, calm down. I’m just trying to figure out what you want. I can tell you what the Scorpio want—information. They want to know everything they can about their enemy, and what ever they can about your people. There’s a chance for peace if you can work out a compromise.” That wasn’t the whole truth, but the stark facts weren’t going to help right now. “How did you become allies with the flesh eaters, anyway? They didn’t treat you very well.”

  The girl’s lip curled. “We are not allies so much as slaves, though some people refuse to see it. In the beginning there was a treaty—we would give animals, blood tribute, the bodies of our dead and living criminals to the flesh eaters. In return they would not invade us. Our leaders said this would buy us time to find a way to destroy them. Instead it made us weak. Everyone gave blood each month. Meat became expensive, and women especially
became anemic. Birth rates dropped. People began to disappear out of hospitals. People died at home rather than risk disappearing. Even minor crimes became causes to be handed over to the blood wagons. Our world is dying, and there are signs that the flesh eaters are becoming impatient. There are some who think they will attack.”

  “Are you one of them?” Xera asked gravely.

  “Yes,” the girl whispered. “But our leaders won’t listen to reason. They call us rebels.”

  “Is that why you were sent to work on the Khun’tat ship?”

  The Leo-Ahni’s mouth twisted. “No. Someone has to serve. I was chosen.”

  The two women were both silent for a moment. Finally Xera asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Rysing.”

  “Well, Rysing, I think our food is finally here. Look.” The door had opened to show Ryven himself bearing a huge platter. He set it on the floor between them and sat down.

  Xera frowned at him.

  He looked at her urbanely. “I’m hungry, too.”

  She sighed. “Oh, all right. Ryven, this is Rysing. I guess you’ve met.”

  Rysing stared.

  When it was clear the girl wasn’t going to say anything, Xera pointed to the platter and started naming things. “This is a fish, and whoever left the head on is just gross. This is a kind of bird, that’s a four-legged beast, and this is.…” As she named things, Ryven sampled them and then gestured for Rysing to try. After a moment of wary contemplation, the girl did, eating only the things he had.

  Watching them both, Xera had a disturbing thought. “You did test her for allergies, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “What are ‘allergies’?” Rysing asked. She eyed the food with distrust.

  Xera sighed and ate a piece of crunchy brown cheese. She loved the sticky sweetness. “When I first boarded a Scorpio ship, I ate a piece of purple root that made me sick. Sometimes the foods that others eat make me sick, so I don’t eat them. In the case of the yur root, I don’t mind—it tastes terrible to me.” She pointed to the criminal foodstuff in question.

  Ryven promptly ate a chunk. “You’re not allergic,” he told Rysing.

  The Leo-Ahni looked at him warily, but sampled a small piece. Her face lit up. “Why, it’s delicious! The best thing I’ve had since I came here.” She promptly finished off the entire pile.

  Xera grimaced. “To each their own, I guess.”

  The three of them ate in a friendly little silence, and when Rysing had sampled almost everything, Xera asked, “Find anything you wouldn’t mind eating again?”

  The girl nodded happily. “The yur root is especially good, and all of the meats. I think I could eat most everything—except for these and these.” She waved her hand over the fruits and the cheese Xera favored. “They are very foul.”

  Xera grinned and shot a look at Ryven. “She’d be an easy house guest. I’d never have to hide my favorite things.”

  He frowned at her, but then his face took on a subtly calculating air. He regarded Rysing with the faintest of smiles. “My wife has an interesting idea. Would you like to leave this room?”

  Rysing’s face lit with a terrible hope. She immediately tried to hide it with a coolly spoken, “Perhaps.”

  He nodded. “Very well. There is a garden I think you would enjoy. We will go for a walk after we discuss the flesh eaters. Tell me about these rebels you spoke of…the ones who’d like to see your alliance broken.”

  Xera looked at the floor. She didn’t like to see the girl manipulated after all she’d been through, but she understood his reasoning. She raised her eyes to see Rysing looking searchingly at her. Xera gave a reassuring nod.

  The Leo-Ahni took a shaky breath, and then told him everything she knew.

  “It’s almost painful to watch her,” Xera said. They stood in the gardens, a little apart from Rysing. The girl stood as if transfixed, staring at the sky. There was a pleasure almost painful in her face.

  Ryven just nodded. His attention didn’t waver for a moment. Xera might have been jealous if it weren’t obvious that he mistrusted the girl. She started to say something when the entrance of a familiar face distracted her.

  Toosun caught sight of them and grinned. “Hello! How fare the newlyweds? I was beginning to think I’d never find you.”

  Xera grinned and readily accepted his brotherly arm clasp. Ryven received the same and a slap on the shoulder, too. He bore it with good grace and commented, “Heroism has made you bold.”

  “Hah! I hear you have some stories of your own. Destroying Khun’tat ships, rescuing the odd damsel.” He noticed Rysing and stared intently. “And this must be the damsel.”

  Rysing stiffened as Toosun approached her. She looked scared.

  Xera caught up with her brother-in-law and touched his shoulder, a silent signal for caution. She stopped next to Rysing. “You haven’t been properly introduced. This is my husband’s brother, Commander Toosun Atarus, of the High Family. He’s recently returned from his first command.”

  “Killing Khun’tat,” Toosun put in. His gaze was hard. Obviously Rysing’s reputation had preceded her.

  Xera went on, slightly annoyed, “And this is Rysing, of the planet Akan in the Xhozon sector.” This had come out in the talk after lunch.

  Something in Toosun’s manner must have triggered Rysing’s annoyance, for she added coolly, “Of the family Naktoon, rulers of the Mountain District.”

  “And will Daddy be suing for peace when he finds we hold his daughter?” Toosun asked. He’d clearly felt the snub.

  “Hardly, since he sent me to the flesh eaters in the first place.”

  Xera held up her hands. “Children, please! I’m too young for an ulcer. Play nice, wouldn’t you? It’s been a long time since Rysing saw the outdoors, and I’d hate to ruin that for her.” She gestured for the girl to walk deeper into the gardens.

  With a last nasty look at Toosun, the Leo-Ahni complied.

  Xera looked her rebuke at her husband’s brother.

  He shook his head. “Don’t be taken in by her. We don’t know enough to trust her.”

  “Nor enough to condemn her,” she replied pointedly. “Are you forgetting how you met me?”

  “You were not found on a Khun’tat ship.”

  “Just a GE one,” she said tartly. “And I’m alien, too.”

  “Humans are occasionally acceptable,” he remarked, with a reasonableness that bordered on patronizing. “But that is not who we’re discussing.”

  Ryven had been silent during the exchange, but he raised his hand when it was clear the argument would continue. “You are both too stubborn to win with words alone, and you are both right. Besides, we were in the middle of welcoming you home, brother.”

  Toosun looked a little nonplussed. Maybe he wasn’t used to his brother practicing diplomacy. “Hm. Yes.” He glanced down at Xera’s middle and smiled. “And I was here to offer my congratulations.”

  Xera frowned at him. “Does everybody know?”

  “Of course.” Toosun studied her face. “You are happy, aren’t you? Our family is ecstatic.”

  She grunted and looked away.

  Ryven answered his brother’s sharp glance with a look that promised more speech later. “She doesn’t like surprises.”

  Toosun had nothing to say to that.

  Toosun waited impatiently until they’d “put away the pet,” and then joined Ryven on a short walk to his private rooms. Toosun took out his best liquor and joined his brother at the kitchen table. He seemed surprised to see how quickly Ryven drained his glass. “This is troubling you?”

  “The woman is maddening! I had no idea how emotional she could be.” He felt harried, drained. He had to be if he was confiding in his younger brother, but whom else could he tell? He couldn’t stand it if his brothers-in-law knew he’d joined their circle. He’d always imagined he’d dominate his wife’s moods, not suffer them.

  Toosun relaxed and served them both drinks. “Thi
s sounds like a familiar complaint. Men agonize because of women. I’ve often listened to my friends complain. She hasn’t left your bed, has she?”

  Ryven shot him an incredulous look. “Of course not!”

  “Then you’ve got nothing to fear. She’ll come around.”

  Ryven peered at him. Perhaps he was seeing double, since he was on his third drink. Generally sober, he hadn’t built up a tolerance for alcohol. He asked Toosun, “How can you have that many sisters and remain so ignorant of women?”

  “Who do you think counsels our brothers-in-law when they have wife trouble?” His brother shrugged. “Be understanding, I tell them. Charm them out of their hackled state. The worst is when the wife wants something that is not possible. Then they have to be charming and firm. I pity them.” He grimaced and took a drink. “Women troubles. They make a sally against hostile Khun’tat sound appetizing.”

  “Charming and firm? How does that work? Why can’t she just be reasonable like a man?” Ryven snapped. “Then I could duel with her and work out our differences. Afterward we’d both go out for a drink.” He noticed his voice was beginning to slur.

  His brother smirked. “There must be something you can bribe her with. Let her send a message to her family.”

  “Offered. Didn’t help.”

  “Well, what does she want?”

  “A job. She wants to own a tavern like her sister.” Or she wanted to remain an ambassador. He was so frazzled at the moment, he wasn’t sure which.

  Toosun choked on his drink. “What?”

  Ryven grunted. He knew his brother’s thoughts. Toosun couldn’t imagine any woman in his family doing such a thing. Scandalous, even for an alien! He was likely wondering that Ryven had been as patient as he had.

  “You told her no, right?”

  “I told her she could help manage the estate.”

  Toosun just stared at him. Then, surprisingly, he changed topics. “What about the alien? Are you going to let her roam free?”

  Ryven sat up and frowned. He pushed his glass aside. “Today was…” He frowned in concentration. “Today was an experiment.”