The Skies of Mahdis

by Rayne Forrest

  He wished he could tell her how fortunate it was for her and her people that it was the Cael of Dannar that had found them. The Cael were not interested in conquest, only knowledge. Trista might not be completely free, but the Cael would not abuse her. It was not their way.

  Q'winn held out his hand to her again. This time she reached for it. Q'winn jolted with an awareness of her as his fingers closed around hers. He steadied himself and smiled sadly. The next revelation would be a shock to her. He led her to the far wall and slid back the panel.

  Her planet was below them, a blue and white world on a sea of stars. Q'winn actually thought it was quite a beautiful planet. But his attention was on the girl. He needed to know if she would recognize her world from space.

  She did. Trista's knees gave out.

  Q'winn was prepared for that reaction. He tried to steady her but ended up easing her to the floor. Not sure if it would help her species, he nonetheless forced her head down over her knees. He left her sitting there while he drew a glass of water for her. He watched anxiously as she took little sips of it.

  "Is this a joke?” she asked. Her voice was so low Q'winn had to strain to hear. She looked up and searched his face. “Is it? Take me home. My family will be worried."

  Q'winn decided he'd say something to her. She'd not understand the words, but maybe it would help for her to just hear his voice.

  "This is hard for you. I understand. But I must learn about your people, even though I know they are not now a threat to Dannar. Your people do not yet travel in space beyond your sun's system. Only then do you become a danger to yourselves.” Q'winn kept his voice soft and low. She was listening to him intently and that pleased him for some reason. Perhaps because he suspected there was a great deal of intelligence behind her eyes.

  "Come, get off the floor. The couch is more comfortable,” he said, rising and holding his hand out to her.

  She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet and moved towards the couch. She jerked away.

  "No!"

  He heard the panic and looked questioningly at her. Surprise rippled through him. Surprise and something else. He had a flashing vision of them stretched naked and coupling on his couch. His phallix drew up so tightly it hurt.

  He shook his head and smiled in what he hoped looked like reassurance. “Come,” he said again. “Sit."

  Trista was looking at him warily. She didn't move so he pulled one of the big pillows behind him and stretched out his long legs. He let her see he was relaxed and at home. Let her see that he did not plan on hurting her.

  Trista sat on the edge of the couch and looked at him. “Now what? Will you take me home?"

  Q'winn calmly considered her. She'd said that one word several times. He could guess what it was. She wanted to go home. He couldn't do that yet. She'd immediately recognized her own planet. There'd been no confusion, only shock. His gut instincts said she knew she was on an alien ship. The implications of that were sobering.

  Others had already been here.

  On a whim he decided to see just what she knew of space. She'd understood the star chart of her sun's system. He ordered a display of her solar system and his. He pointed to the view screen, at the earth, then the chart. She nodded. Trista pointed to the third planet on the chart.

  She understood. It chilled him. He sat at his desk and ordered the image files on other species the Dannar had encountered.

  "Come here. Look at these,” he said and gestured. She licked her lips uncertainly, then went to him.

  Q'winn felt like an idiot. She'd wet her lips and it had jolted through him like a shockwave. He couldn't let that sort of reaction to her—to any female—be visible. What he had to learn from her was too important.

  What he wanted to learn from her was too dangerous to him to even consider.

  She stood beside him and looked at he ran the images in the file. Only once did any sort of recognition flicker in her eyes. The Raku.

  If the Raku had visited her world, they had been careless and allowed themselves to be seen. That was not like them. They were masters of stealth.

  Unless the Rakuian technique of memory wiping didn't work on Trista's people. It hadn't worked on the Dannarri. The Dannarri had remembered and realized they were not alone in the universe. It had fired their imaginations and sent them to space.

  What came later could not be laid solely at the feet of the Raku no matter what the commonly held belief was. The Dannarri had grown arrogant and careless and that had played a big part of the destruction.

  Q'winn sensed that Trista needed to be given the chance to think things over. He patted her hand. She jerked it away. He gave her a level look that she unflinchingly returned.

  He called for Vanteen and instructed that Trista be shown how to access everything in her quarters. He also told Vanteen to reprogram Trista's door so she could leave her room. Vanteen nodded and bowed in response. She tugged on Trista's arm. Trista followed without a sound.

  Q'winn dropped on the couch and sprawled comfortably while plotting his next move.

  Three

  Q'winn stood looking out his viewport at the planet of Dannar. He was glad to be home. The Anakin had been in space for almost a year. He longed for the mountains of Mahdis. He dreamed of the cool springs, the morning mists, and the view of the sea from the towers of the keep.

  He had dreamed of more, too. That he pushed from his mind. That would unravel everything.

  The door chime sounded. He knew it was Trista. He had called for her a few minutes ago, as soon as their orbital path had leveled. He ordered the door to open and steeled himself against his reaction to her. It did not help. She stepped inside and his phallix tightened. He held out his hand to her.

  "Come,” he said in her language. He'd learned quite a lot of her language the last three months.

  It pleased him that Trista had learned much of his, as well. She understood a lot, at least. Pronunciation of some of the sounds was beyond her ability. But she came close enough that those who spoke with her frequently understood her. Q'winn observed that she and Vanteen chattered constantly.

  Today she had an angry glint in her beautiful eyes and a stubborn set to her chin. Q'winn knew better than to grin at her. Then again, Terran swear words were beginning to hold an unusual fascination for him.

  Her demeanor changed instantly as she looked past him to her first view of Dannar. She ran to the viewport, so absorbed in the view that she didn't realize her hip was against his. She had carefully avoided physical contact with him.

  Q'winn was both relieved and frustrated by that.

  She had just bathed and Q'winn could detect the floral scent of the soap she used. Shipboard choices of toiletries were somewhat limited. All the females seemed to use that soap. He'd overheard the feminine chatter voicing their obsession with their skin. He wasn't sure he understood it, but he knew the soap smelled much better on Trista than on any of the others.

  "Is this Dannar?” she asked him.

  "Yes. What are you angry?"

  "It's ‘why’ am I angry. Who says I'm angry?"

  He snorted. “We are home. I have a share with you."

  "You are home. And your shares are generally bribes,” she said as he led her to the table. He poured a light greenish-brown liquid from a carafe into two mugs. Fragrant steam rose from the mugs. He hid his smile when Trista sniffed the air.

  "For you.” He handed her a mug. “This is no more. I waited to be special."

  Trista sipped and rolled her eyes in appreciation. “This is very good. What is it?"

  "Zhecr."

  "Of course it is,” she mumbled, sipping again.

  "Say it,” he said, poking her arm with a pointed finger.

  "Zahecker,” she said dutifully. “Tea."

  He looked at her, amused. ‘Tee’ was not quite a polite word. He supposed he'd better tell her.

  "Say it,” she said, poking his arm.

  "Tee,” he said with the same long-suffering inf
lection she had used to say zhecr. “This is not a polite word,” he confessed.

  "Oh? How impolite is it?"

  "What?” He hated it when she prefixed a word he knew and changed the meaning. It confused him and she knew it. He knew she did it deliberately.

  "How not polite is it?” she repeated.

  "Not very. Only some. Try not to say it. Try to remember zhecr."

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  He grinned. She hated it when he refused to tell her things.

  "Listen, Q'winn, why didn't..."

  He grabbed her roughly, cutting off her question and spilling her tea. She started to struggle and he gave her a little shake that brought a surprised gasp from her and made her go limp in his grasp. He did not ever treat her harshly.

  "You learned my name? Where?"

  "Vanteen. You've always had me call you kaden. She told me this morning that's your title, not your name. Why didn't you tell me?” There was hurt in her voice.

  "Do not say it. Never. Others will hear. It is forbidden you say it."

  She nodded her compliance.

  "Is it forbidden for you to say my name?” she asked softly.

  "Yes,” he said sadly. “Avakis do not know females.” He cupped her face. “I am sorry."

  Q'winn wondered if she understood his sadness over that fact. Sometimes, when they got this close, she looked sad, too. He wondered if it was because she had not yet given up her desire to return to her home world.

  That she was free to go where she wished on the Anakin, except for the weapons locker, the flight bridge, and anyone else's quarters unless invited, did not make any difference to her. She blamed him for her situation, and rightly so.

  Q'winn was sure there had been times that if she'd gotten her hands on a weapon, she'd have shot him. She had insulted him, he was sure. He remembered the words, and the fire in her eyes when she'd said them. Stubborn and pig-headed were the words. She'd used them when he flatly refused to take her home.

  She'd asked him over and over why he couldn't do it. At first the language barrier had been the source of her frustration. Now it was Q'winn himself. Now he knew what she wanted and he simply refused to tell her everything.

  They had almost become friends. Almost. To be friends they'd need to trust. And he knew Trista could not bring herself to trust him completely.

  She was looking out at Dannar again. The weight of what must happen next settled on his shoulders.

  "Listen to me,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. “We will go to Mahdis Keep. You will be ... okay.” He stumbled on the word but she nodded. “You will not come to me often."

  "Can you tell me why?"

  "I have duty. I am avaki. It is the Season of Ceca. I serve Sioda."

  "So you'll be very busy?"

  "Busy. Yes."

  "What else?” she asked. He was not surprised she sensed there was more.

  "Mahdis is my home. I will be in the eyes of many. The risk is big if I know any female."

  They had talked about this. He knew Trista understood he would be watched. And as a priest of their goddess, he wasn't allowed female companionship.

  He had assured her that he would see her quartered with Vanteen as her companion and teacher. She had tried to explain to him that Vanteen tended to only talk about her sister and that woman's lack of children and that did not interest her. Q'winn had pretended not to see the problem.

  "You will have duty, too,” he said to her. He took her cup from her and refilled it. “Do not spill this time,” he said, grinning with an almost boyish charm and lightening the mood. He hated to see the little worry lines between her eyes when she drew her eyebrows together.

  "Was this really the last of your tea?"

  He rolled his eyes at her. “No. I have much tee,” he teased.

  "Okay, buster. Tell me what it means in Dannarri."

  "Hair."

  "Hair? Hair? What's so bad about having hair?” she asked incredulously.

  "Ah. It's where the hair is,” he said, grinning widely as her mouth dropped open again.

  * * * *

  Mahdis Keep was beautiful. Perched on a crag above the tree line, it overlooked the sea on one side and sprawled down the side of the mountain on the other. Built of massive stones it withstood the forces of wind and weather unflinchingly. One immense square tower covered the highest point. Smaller towers dotted the hillside.

  For all the blackness of the stone, Mahdis was green. Mosses and tiny alpines grew between the pavers. Flowering vines crept up the sides of the graceful, sweeping arches that connected inner and outer baileys. Large wooden tubs of colorful bloomers were everywhere. Small birds fought for space in the many fountains. The sound and smell of the sea drifted into Mahdis when the breeze was just right. There was a peace upon Mahdis.

  Trista was not fooled, though. She was stunned by Mahdis’ beauty but aware that it was a fortress. Loving architecture as she did, she'd studied the castles of Scotland, Wales and Cornwall. Tintagel had fascinated her as much for the castle ruins as for the Arthurian legend.

  The towers of Mahdis were sentinels. The walls protected abundant springs and boasted narrow slits for defenders. Partially concealed doors hinted of a labyrinth of rooms and corridors carved out of the mountain itself.

  They passed through one of the smaller arches and Vanteen tugged on Trista's arm and pulled Trista out of the group they were walking with.

  "Stop it,” Trista said to her, trying to fall back in line.

  Q'winn was leading the group and he halted and turned. Vanteen bowed and asked him a question. Trista caught most of it. Vanteen was asking permission to go to her home. Q'winn nodded.

  Vanteen turned and grabbed Trista again. “Come. You will live me. Sirtanna and me will work you."

  Trista shook her head, saying nothing. She knew Vanteen meant she was to work with her and Sirtanna. Languages being what they were, Vanteen and Sirtanna flatly refused to say the word ‘with'. Nor would they tell her why. Trista just simply gave up and ignored them.

  Vanteen led her up stairs to a landing and through a carved door. Trista didn't have time to look at the symbols before Vanteen closed the door behind them.

  "Home,” Vanteen said, waving her arms wide. “You sleep here.” Vanteen pointed to the couch.

  Trista sat on the low couch and bounced up and down a few times.

  "Good."

  Vanteen smiled. “You go see all. Careful to know way home."

  Trista stared at her.

  "What do you mean? That I can just go walking about and no one will say anything?” she asked in disbelief.

  "No to go everywhere. Most all. Someone stop you, you do as told."

  "Who will stop me?"

  "Same as Anakin."

  "This place is guarded?"

  "Yes. Protected. You bee-haave."

  "I will, trust me,” Trista said grimly. “Can I go up one of the towers?"

  "Could be. I take you towers. Not go alone.” Vanteen narrowed her eyes to slits. “Know you. Want to now. Trista way."

  "We can go tomorrow,” Trista said just to be contrary.

  "New day, we work duty.” Vanteen sighed. “We climb now.” She suddenly pinched Trista in the back of the leg and grinned as Trista yelled. “Strong leg. You can do,” she said, still grinning.

  "Why do you have to go with me?” Trista emphasized the word just to watch Vanteen's eyes widen. It was her turn to grin.

  "Come. Now.” Vanteen yanked the door open and tried to look disgusted. Trista followed, laughing softly. By the time they had reached the bottom of the stairs they were both laughing. Trista noticed no one seemed to pay them too much attention.

  Vanteen led her through the twists and turns of the paved narrow lanes to the large tower. She said a few words to the guard who nodded and opened the door to them. He called someone else on a small communications device.

  They stepped into the tower and Vanteen gently took Trista's arm.

/>   "No trespass at doors. This avaki tower. Stay stairs to top."

  "Is Q'winn here?"

  Vanteen shook her head. “No. Be here soon many days."

  Trista shook her head. She didn't quite understand, but it probably didn't matter. She'd ask Q'winn if Vanteen didn't clarify it in a day or two. She was learning to be patient with Vanteen and her alien thought process.

  The climb to the top of the tower seemed endless. There were guards at each level who simply nodded as they went past them. Trista was glad she was in such good shape. She automatically counted the steps. When she got to eight hundred-ninety seven, she paused. Something stuck in her memory about that number of steps, but she couldn't bring it into focus. Vanteen called to her and Trista continued her dogged climb to the top. She groaned with relief when she made the final step—one thousand—and stood in a small square chamber.

  Vanteen selected one of the four doors and rapped on it. It opened to reveal another guard. He motioned them to step outside. Trista stood in awe at the beauty of the sea that lay beneath her.

  It looked so much like home! The water was the same color as the Atlantic and stretched to meet an azure sky. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She had not given in to tears since she'd first been taken and she didn't want to now, but she couldn't stop them.

  The tears overflowed as a seabird swept by, coasting on the air currents and calling to others of its kind. She felt Vanteen wrap her arms around her, then the guard moved to her side and enfolded her in a comforting embrace. She didn't want to seem too ungrateful, but she wasn't sure about passively encouraging any of the men. She looked at him.

  "Thank you,” she said in Dannarri.

  He replied with a smile. Trista didn't catch every word but got enough to know he'd only taken hold of her to keep her from flinging herself off the parapet. There was something else that had elicited a small hiss from Vanteen, but Trista didn't care to have it repeated. She held her hand out to Vanteen.

  "Can we go?"

  "We go. You go led. I see you know home."