The Skies of Mahdis

by Rayne Forrest

  "I didn't, until recently, understand the attraction of being a weaver. Now I worry over what they might have told you,” he said lightly.

  "My, my. Like we talked about you,” she said haughtily.

  "Not at all? Well, I think I'm relieved.” He squeezed her hand. “I had thought you would learn about us faster being with those women. Then you ran away. I did wonder what they might have said."

  "I didn't run away! I've told you that before!"

  He looked at her and she sensed unrest behind his gaze.

  "Are you planning on taking any walks today? I would advise against it."

  Trista started to snap at him, then stopped. He still didn't believe that she'd been on her way back to Mahdis Keep when the Santonna had found her. Or did his words mean something else?

  "What if I would like to take a little walk?” she asked, observing with fascination as his pupils flared and his mouth tightened. “Q'winn, what's so wrong with taking a walk?"

  "Where will you walk?” he asked tersely. “This is not Mahdis. The men here will not hesitate to approach you."

  "I don't want the men here to approach me. I'd prefer they keep their distance. Did I say that correctly? You understand?” She snapped the words at him and let him know he'd made her angry.

  His expression changed ever so slightly. Trista's temper soared. He was one little twitch away from letting how smug her words made him feel show on his face. She could see it. She clamped her teeth together. If he could hold the smug in, she'd hold the temper in. Maybe.

  "I understand little,” he said in Terran, smiling at her. She jerked her hand out of his.

  "Why would you sit there and think I'd be out looking for another man?” She tried to keep her voice down, but it rose considerably. She jumped up and made for the door. He grabbed her before she could fling it open and toss him out.

  He backed her to the door and kissed her. Their hands tangled as she tried to smack him and he warded her off. When he pressed flat against her, she stopped fighting. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave herself over to him.

  "This is why I don't want another man,” she whispered to him as his lips traveled down her neck.

  He looked at her. There it was again. That open look that let her see into his soul.

  "Only you, Q'winn."

  Something flickered in those sea-green eyes, but he smiled at her.

  "Only you, Trista."

  He kissed her again, gently, soulfully. She thought she sensed a sudden sadness in him but pushed the thought away. His lips and his body promised her they would be together again in a few short hours. She rested her head on his chest.

  "You'd better go or you won't get anything done today."

  He sighed. “And there is much to do, you are correct."

  He kissed her one more time before opening the door and striding boldly out. She closed the door behind him and sat back down at the table. Vanteen threw off her blankets and with a decided lack of dignity scurried to the table and sat with her. Her cat eyes gleamed.

  "What do?” she asked as she filled the cup Q'winn had used and gulped a mouthful of lukewarm zhecr.

  Trista narrowed her eyes at her friend.

  "What you do? Listen big ears?"

  Vanteen's tiny furred ears twitched. “Not need big ears. Need good ears. Got.” She grabbed Trista's wrist and held it gently. “Give rings Q'winn?"

  Trista blushed. Q'winn's quiet, almost embarrassed explanation of why he'd not needed the rings had left her with her mouth hanging open in wonder. Not possessing the nardecs, he didn't need to block the flow of seminal fluids. Now, looking at Vanteen, she realized what had to have occurred for Vanteen to become pregnant.

  Being Okarran, Vanteen did not posses the tiny slits the nardecs entered to deposit sperm. Which meant they'd had to enter elsewhere, right along with ... Trista couldn't even think about it. She was glad Q'winn didn't have them. Three of his ... all at the same time ... It didn't matter to her that the nardecs were very, very small. And flexible. Three was two too many.

  Still blushing furiously she finally answered Vanteen.

  "Yes, Q'winn knew what to do with them."

  "Good. You keep.” Vanteen idly rubbed her stomach. “Go make bath. We go marr-kett."

  Trista was more than happy to escape to the tub until she eased into the warm water. She'd never been so aware of the feel of water on her skin. The soft cloth she washed with, the silky feel of the soap—it was as if she'd never been aware of her own body before now. She was fascinated by this new awareness. She finally managed to rinse, dry off and dress.

  Vanteen was still sipping cold tea when Trista walked back into the outer room. She wondered what the plan for the day really was. “Marr-kett” meant shopping in general to Vanteen. A knock at the door kept her from asking.

  A young boy handed her a small wallet and bowed. “Avaki H'akan sends this for your use. He says I am to tell you to use it to prepare for your ride to the oasis."

  Trista thanked him. The boy bowed again and was quickly gone.

  Vanteen held her hand out for the little pouch. She hissed as she counted the coins inside and looked at Trista with new respect. Trista clamped her jaws together again to keep from telling Vanteen that was not for services rendered. She had to remember that where Vanteen came from it was expected that men give gifts following lovemaking. The more pleased the man, the bigger the gift.

  The market was only a short walk from their rooms. Trista was sweating from the increasing heat long before they got to the rows of low buildings. Vanteen grabbed a young girl with a basket by the scruff of the neck and held up a small coin. The girl nodded eagerly and followed them through the first few stalls.

  "That's child labor, Vanteen. That basket is getting too heavy for her,” Trista said as Vanteen loaded her latest purchases into it.

  "Is lot coin small job. No hurt girl. Almost is end.” True to her word, Vanteen added two loaves of fresh bread to the basket and sent the girl to their rooms with her load and the promised coin.

  They went to two more places before Vanteen declared they were done. They stopped at a small vendor and each got a small bottle of the dark malt brew. It was wonderful in the heat and Trista sipped at hers gratefully.

  "Vanteen, how long have you been with the Dannarri?"

  "Long time."

  "How long is that?"

  "How Trista measure time, eh?"

  "We measure in several ways. Tell me how many seasons you've been here."

  Vanteen shook her head and fell silent. She finally answered. “Have been for ten Seasons of Ceca. Not sure you world smart."

  Trista tried not to let her surprise show. Vanteen had been here almost twelve years.

  "Do you want to go home?"

  "Someday. Not soon. Have daughter here. When ready, then ask go home."

  "But what about your daughters on Okar? They'll be grown, are grown. You won't even know them."

  Vanteen patted Trista's cheek. “You worry. Is nice. But daughters not even miss Vanteen. Is all sunny day for them."

  "You hope so."

  "No, it not rain today. Vanteen be home before missed.” She looked at Trista with an enigmatic gaze that made Trista shiver despite the heat.

  "Trista see. All is walk on bee-chh. Nothing more."

  Thirteen

  Q'winn splashed water on his face and patted it dry. He hated to shave. He detested shaving. He made up his mind to ask Trista if his beard would be too rough on her skin. He carefully cleaned the razor and wondered where his brother was. W'eylin had been conspicuously absent all day.

  Q'winn had sent a boy to search for him, but the boy had returned with the news that W'eylin was outside the walls, scouting the immediate area for hkirqa. Q'winn hoped they found a nice buck. His mouth watered thinking of it.

  His brother's absence did make preparing to go to Trista easier, however. W'eylin was not comfortable with Q'winn's decisions, or at least not yet. Q'winn did underst
and.

  His favorite green tunic had been laundered and left for him and he carefully folded it into his pack. There was still too much heat shimmering up from the paved courtyards and corridors to put it on just yet. He slipped on a soft leather vest and didn't bother to lace it. He quickly shoved the remaining items in his pack and stepped from his rooms.

  The gathering dusk had stilled the air and the flying creatures. People were inside, about their evening meal. He had chosen this time for that reason. He walked across the paved ways almost silently, his stride more warrior than man of peace. He was vibrating with the thought of holding Trista again.

  Last night had been more than he'd ever imagined. Bits and pieces of conversations heard around campfires and over shared cups had not truly prepared him. Being an avaki, other men did not share stories of their sexual adventures with him. Even W'eylin had often remained silent on the subject.

  One thing he was sure of, he had pleased Trista. And she had certainly pleased him. His phallix had been tight all day. He had spent the required hour in the Believer's Chapel praying. Praying his body would behave itself until dark.

  It had not been the prayers of an avaki.

  He had almost relit his prayer lamp. He still was not sure why he hesitated. His path had been cleared to be with Trista in ways only Sioda could have managed. He had asked, she had answered.

  And nowhere in her sacred texts did she forbid sexual congress for those who served her. She urged against distractions of a worldly nature and that had always been interpreted as feminine distractions. The prohibition against females in general, and copulation specifically, had been handed down from the earliest Elders. It was a thing of men, not the goddess.

  Many a long and lonely night reading the original texts had gleaned that piece of information. It had not been what Q'winn had been looking for at the time, but it had changed his world. He still didn't know how, or even if, he should use it. He wondered if perhaps he should leave the information buried for another to find it someday.

  And there would be another. He hardly thought he was unique in his desire for a companion. To remain silent was something he couldn't do.

  He couldn't do that injustice to some other unknown, faceless boy who would lie on his couch at night and face the endless despair he had faced. And for what? So old men could sit in their chamber and philosophize? No.

  There would come a time when he would speak of what he had found in the original texts. He had used technology from the Anakin to preserve copies of it, just in case.

  He recognized his own bitterness over the path his life had taken. The path had not truly been his choice. Faced with the prospect of raising a jayalor son, his father had mapped the course.

  Q'winn was fortunate in one thing. His father had once had a jayalor brother. A'rtenn had recognized that his brother was not emotionally or mentally unstable or physically weak. His brother had been strong and healthy regardless of the pronouncement of the herbalists.

  When it became evident that Q'winn was jayalor, A'rtenn had swiftly taken steps to shield his son. Q'winn had been expected to excel at riding, hunting, and martial arts the same as his older brothers. Q'winn had become proof that a jayalor was equal to a jaynard in all except procreation.

  And where better to hide a son that couldn't father a child but with the avakis who didn't take lovers?

  Q'winn knew that one day it would not matter. The jayalor gene was recessive. Fewer and fewer were born in each generation. There would come a day when people would read about them and disbelieve they'd existed. Such was time.

  And as for sexual relations with a female causing a jayalor to become unstable, Q'winn snorted to himself. He'd take his chances. The intimate companionship of other jayalors held no appeal for him.

  Well, well. There was his long-lost brother leading four boggas up to Trista's door.

  "Going somewhere?” he asked W'eylin.

  "I heard there was a little excursion planned for tonight. Out to the oasis. Sounded like fun."

  "I was hoping it would be,” Q'winn said under his breath. He glanced at the gates and sighed, a long gusting breath.

  "Are you all right, Q'winn?"

  Q'winn met his brother's concerned and curious gaze and swallowed the retort that sprang to his lips. He squeezed W'eylin's shoulder and grinned. Before he could say anything Trista opened the door. She approached meekly enough that anyone watching would not suspect impropriety, but her eyes flew to Q'winn's and left him scorched.

  Q'winn adjusted the leathers on her bogga then boosted her up. He turned to find his brother's silent, watchful gaze on them. W'eylin turned away and helped Vanteen mount.

  They rode silently through the carved tunnel of rock and through the outer gates. Q'winn paused long enough to tell the sentries where they were going and that they would be very late, probably past the end of their duty shift, coming back. The guards confirmed they would inform their relief. They turned and headed for the oasis, a patch of blackness in the failing light.

  About a hundred yards out from the palace, Q'winn told Trista to bring her bogga next to his. She urged the animal to a few fast steps then let the little mare settle stride for stride with Q'winn's beast. W'eylin and Vanteen dropped back a few paces, and remained silent.

  "They are curious,” Q'winn said, nodding towards them.

  "They are just nosey."

  "What do their noses have to do with this?"

  "Oh God help me!” Trista exclaimed in frustrated Terran. “Ears, Q'winn. They have big ears."

  He grinned at her. “Then we should hold our breath."

  "You rat! You understood what I meant,” she said narrowing her eyes at him. He laughed. It was such a joyful sound Trista had to laugh with him.

  "We have to find something to entertain them.” The annoyance in his voice was clear. “I did not invite them."

  "I did."

  He stared at her.

  "Well, I did. I had to! She wouldn't stop chattering at me. I had to do it!"

  Q'winn just kept on staring at her in disbelief.

  "What was I supposed to do? Stuff a pillow in her mouth? Q'winn! Say something!"

  "Is she along to afford you an excuse not to be alone with me?"

  It was Trista's turn to stare.

  "No, she is not. I wanted to be alone with you. I swear!"

  "Come on, then.” Q'winn urged his bogga to a trot. Trista's little beast followed doggedly along behind him. He saw Trista glance over her shoulder to see if W'eylin and Vanteen had also increased their speed. They had not.

  They passed into the darkness under the tree canopy. Q'winn slowed them back to a walk. The trees opened unto a grass lawn surrounding the small freshwater lake. Q'winn reached up to help her dismount and she slid into his embrace.

  There was no patience in him. He fastened his lips to hers and tumbled her to the ground beneath him. She met his kiss with her own passion. He trailed his mouth across her cheek to her ear.

  "I need you, Trista. All I could think about today was being able to hold you again."

  "Let me breathe first!” she exclaimed, pushing at him.

  He rose up and looked at her. She was eyeing him like he was a choice morsel of rich, dark chellate. His head snapped up and he muttered a single short word and rolled away from her.

  "That must be Dannarri for fuck it,” she muttered. Q'winn had risen and was unhooking the packs from the boggas. He tossed then in her direction then loosened the leathers on the animals.

  Q'winn all but hauled W'eylin off his bogga before it stopped. He barely let his brother land on his feet before he dragged him several yards away. He ordered W'eylin to find another spot for himself and Vanteen, and to stay away until they were ready to ride back. W'eylin agreed, swiftly grabbing Vanteen's reins and leading led her bogga away. Q'winn heard Vanteen speaking rapidly in Okarran. W'eylin waved his hand in the air and kept walking.

  Q'winn glared at their retreating forms.

  "Ge
t over it,” Trista snapped at him. “They're going away."

  "Not far enough,” he groused.

  "Do you need food? Is that part of your problem?"

  He turned to face her and his face broke in a wry grin.

  "No, that is not my problem. It's lower than my stomach."

  "Really? I'm hungry. Starved, as a matter-of-fact. You should feed me."

  "Come on.” Q'winn handed her the lighter pack, then took her free hand. They walked to the edge of the grass and agreed on a spot and spread their blanket.

  Q'winn watched restlessly as Trista nibbled at her fruit. He wasn't sure why he was so tense. He didn't seem to be able to sit still.

  "You want to tell me what the problem is?” she asked.

  "Maybe this was not a good idea."

  She sighed. “Well, let's go back then."

  "No. No, I don't want to. Not yet.” What was wrong with him, he wondered. He wanted her, and badly, that was his problem.

  And there she sat—calmly nibbling away at her dinner.

  He dropped his forehead to his knees and tried to relax. He closed his eyes and absorbed the night. Leaves rustled softly in the erratic breeze. A splash in the lake was likely a fish leaping for an insect. On the other side of the oasis two night birds called back and forth. The air was warm, a touch humid, and smelled faintly of wetland. He felt a sudden pang of longing for the crisp, sharp mountain air of Mahdis.

  A gentle touch on his back brought him back from his mental wanderings. He turned to look at Trista and found her kneeling, naked, beside him. She smiled.

  He looked at her in awe. She was not classically beautiful, and her illness had left her thin, but to Q'winn, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He rolled to his knees and pulled her to him. Her arms went around his neck and she sighed in his ear.

  "Forgive my bad mood,” he said, nibbling on the soft skin where her shoulder rose to her throat. “I don't know what is wrong with me. You are not to blame."

  Her hand slipped between them and she rubbed the bulge in his pants.

  "Is this your real problem?"

  "Probably,” he admitted. He cupped her round bottom and pulled her tighter. She started to slide his vest off. Her fingers found his nipples and she teased them.