"Why would she think that?"
"She does not trust me. My motives are suspect. Yet she will lay with me,” Q'winn said bitterly. He tossed a small stone towards the desert with considerable force. “Maybe she thinks her body is the coin necessary to be taken home."
"She would not be the first female to believe that and act on it."
"She had never lain with anyone before me. That is a precious coin to toss away."
"Have you told her that one day she'll be returned to her world? Have you given her any assurances of that?"
"I told her. I told her war is coming and I will have her safe."
"But you didn't tell her when you will take her home?"
"No. I don't have it worked out to the day and the time, W'eylin. I'm selfish enough to want her with me as long as it can be."
Q'winn stood and offered a hand up to W'eylin. “I will go to her. Perhaps she will let me in the door."
"Will you tell her why we can't take her home yet? Surely she will understand. Her people have ventured to their moon. She recognized such things as her own solar system. That we do not want to call attention to Terra should make it easier for her."
"If she allows me to speak, I will explain it to her.” Q'winn stopped walking and looked at his brother. W'eylin understood women far better than he did.
"Will she think I am only going back to her to...?” his voice trailed off. W'eylin was grinning at him.
"Aren't you?"
"No, I am not. I care for her,” Q'winn said.
"So if she wants to lay with you, you'll turn her down?"
"No. I'm not that strong."
W'eylin did laugh then. Q'winn flashed him a disgusted look. “I was hoping you'd turn out to be helpful with this."
"Oh, Q'winn, my brother, when it comes to women, it's every man for himself,” W'eylin laughed. He sobered seeing Q'winn's face.
"You should stop worrying. You've figured out what to do so far, you'll figure out this afternoon, as well."
"Can you get Vanteen out of the way?"
"Your guess is as good as mine on that one,” W'eylin replied dryly. “She's like an ila protecting her newly hatched chick when it comes to Trista."
They'd reached the wall and walked along the ramparts. Q'winn paused at the top of the stairs and looked southward once again. The sun bathed the desert in shades of sparkling gold against a cloudless blue sky. He gusted out another deep breath.
"It wasn't your fault, Q'winn."
"Wasn't it?” Q'winn replied bitterly.
"No, it wasn't. If there is blame, it should rest with Father. He made the choices. They were the right choices. You can't look at all you've accomplished and not know they were right."
"I feel responsible. I always have."
"You've got to move past that. Mother bears some of the blame herself,” W'eylin told him.
"She feared what any woman would fear whose partner had taken her beyond social convention and acceptance. Her own daughters abandoned her,” Q'winn pointed out.
"Yes, she did. And she let that fear consume her. When she became ill, she welcomed it. It was her escape. It was such a waste. You were so young. We all protected you from the worst of her delusions. Perhaps that was an injustice to you."
"I was fifteen when she died. Almost a man. I knew she blamed me,” Q'winn said bitterly.
"For an accident of birth? Something no one could have foretold? Believe me—she blamed Father.” W'eylin squeezed Q'winn's shoulder. “Have you explained to Trista your ... your ... what's not...?"
"My lack of proper parts? Yes. She views it somewhat differently.” Q'winn finally smiled. He noted the quick look of relief that flashed in W'eylin's eyes.
"You and Father sought to protect me by not telling me things. I have done that same thing with Trista. You'd think I would have realized what I was doing and why. But I did not until now."
"We tried to protect you out of our love for you. What if we were wrong and society was right? What if you couldn't handle the truth about Mother? What if that was the one thing that would cause you to become unstable?” W'eylin took a deep breath. “We were frightened for you. We still are. But know this, brother, if it ever becomes known you are jayalor, I will not turn from you. Never.” W'eylin suddenly grinned. “We can always go live on Okar."
Q'winn shook his head, then suddenly embraced his brother. “I'm fine. Or I will be if Trista will speak with me. And you can go to Okar. I've another destination in mind."
"Trista will speak with you. I'm sure of it. Although you might not like everything she says to you,” W'eylin warned with a grin.
"Come on. Let's go.” Q'winn was suddenly in a hurry to find Trista and see if she really would talk with him. Q'winn started down the steps with W'eylin hurrying behind him.
Trista opened the door to him and motioned him in and Vanteen out. She closed the door behind Vanteen and slid the bolt home before she turned to look at Q'winn. He spoke first.
"I'm sorry, Trista."
"For what? I'm the one who hurt you. And I'm very sorry, Q'winn. I didn't think before I accused you."
"There are things I have not explained to you. I've been wrong to do that. You cannot understand if you do not know."
"I still should not have accused you. Please say you forgive me."
He held out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her into his arms.
"You have done nothing that needs forgiveness. But I have. I will tell you, if you will allow me to stay."
She looked up at him and he felt himself begin to melt into her.
"Can you tell me later?” she asked. “Right now, I need you to kiss me."
He lowered his lips to hers and marveled at her welcome. The blood started to pool in his phallix. He pulled away from her just far enough to look in her eyes.
"Tell me now if you do not want me,” he whispered.
"I want you, Q'winn H'akan,” she said as she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled his lips back to hers.
How long he kissed her he didn't know. She melted against him and he wrapped his arms around her and worshipped at her lips. All that mattered was that they had these moments to share and that they not be wasted. There was time, and he took it.
Always before the newness of their passion had sent them urgently to that moment of joining, where flesh met flesh in a need that did not allow for the slow learning of each other. Now their world slowed and they moved in an intimate dance of touches and sighs and tastes.
He lifted her and she smiled against his lips and whispered in his ear how much she liked it that he would carry her to her couch. He laid her down and trailed his hands down her legs and began to unlace her boots. He didn't stop until she lay bare before him.
He stood before her and she watched as he undressed. He felt no shame in front of her when he slid his pants off his hips and his maleness was displayed for her. He lay beside her and they settled together.
Her hands were cool on his skin. They always were. But instead of chilling him they trailed warmth over him. Her lips were warm and he shivered where she kissed. When she urged him to his back and took him in her mouth, his world reeled.
She took him to the brink then eased away, slowly letting him come back. He coaxed her to lay full length upon him then rolled her beneath him. His lips and his hands traveled down her body, pleasuring her breasts, finding a nerve point over her ribcage that made her jump when he kissed there, nipping at her hips where flesh barely covered bone.
She was restless beneath him, urging him to take her. He was fully displayed, hard and completely ready. But he had control over his arousal now. He slowly ran his hands down her sides and to splay over her hips. His thumbs came together and slipped into the dark hair at her thighs.
He dipped lower and her muscles quivered beneath his hands as he gently pushed her legs open. He kissed the soft skin of her inner thigh, tasting the traces of her desire for him and hearing her breath catch in her throat.
<
br /> All the while he marveled that she wanted him, that he was the one she would allow to do these things with her and to see her passion, and to share it.
He teased at her heat with his tongue and she gasped out a string of words in her native language. The only word he was sure of was ‘please'. He could guess the rest.
He cupped her bottom and fastened his mouth to her. She moaned and pulsed under his lips, sending a jolt through him that broke him out in a sweat. She was urging him to take her. He slowed to prolong their pleasure but sensed her need had changed and become more than this soft, easy sharing.
He shifted to look at her and saw the tears on her cheeks. It confounded him. He knelt above her, kissing her cheeks, then her eyes. Her eyes opened and he glimpsed the battle she fought with herself. It was one he understood. He fought it, too.
She reached up and touched his face and whispered his name. Something akin to sadness flashed in her blue eyes. Coupled with the sadness was an acceptance of him that stunned him even as relief washed through him. He'd never thought she would truly accept him or her situation.
She suddenly rolled over and lifted her hips to him. His heart stopped, then began to pound. He pulled her to him and sank into her unresisting body. He didn't want to hurt her and the sounds she made let him know he was not. He braced himself over her and cupped her to keep her pinned to him. She gave herself over to him completely.
He thrust into her, withdrawing as far as he could without leaving her, and thrust again. She kept urging him faster but he held his rhythm. He felt her body begin to clench, then a flood of wetness swirled around him. She let out a long, low moan of feminine pleasure and he felt his own orgasm become inevitable.
She went limp beneath him except for where their bodies joined. Her inner walls rippled around him, clenched and released him. She pulsed under his hand where he held her pressed to him. He could feel the pulses shiver down her thighs.
His back arched and he came into her hard as his climax battered him. He was vaguely aware of slamming into her and that she was rocking back to meet him. He grabbed her hips to stop her. Every nerve ending in his phallus was screaming stop.
But she wasn't able to stop. She gripped him, hard, then released him. He dipped his hand back into her nest of dark hair and pressed. She gasped when her body clenched around his. It was nothing she could control. He stroked across her again, a slow steady pressure that made her thighs quiver.
He felt the tremors begin anew. She was going to come again. He did what he could to aid her. It was enough.
As her flesh stilled, he coaxed her down. She sprawled beneath him on her belly. He lay with an arm and leg draped over her. The late afternoon sun filtered through the shutters across them. The sounds of people in the courtyard drifted in.
They lay unmoving except for their breathing. Q'winn sensed some final barrier between them had been breached, fallen and cast aside in their surrender to each other.
What future they had was shrouded, but it no longer mattered. Each day would be accepted as it came.
Trista turned to him and he wrapped her in his arms and listened to her breathing as she drifted into sleep. There was still much he needed to tell her. But there was time.
Time. The greatest benefactor and the deadliest enemy.
Fifteen
Trista sat nervously at the table in Q'winn's room, toying with a pastry she didn't want. It lay in little pieces on her plate, broken bit by bit by restless fingers. Q'winn sat calmly watching her.
"I do not understand why you worry. What they ask you will be straightforward. Answer them as best you can."
She started to reply to him and he pushed one of the small bites of pastry in her mouth.
"I will be here, Trista. There is no need to fear this."
"You've placed the safety of my entire world on my shoulders. I'll be afraid if I want to be. And I think there is plenty to be afraid of."
"Yes, there is. That is why you will answer as truthfully as you can."
"How can these men be so important? They're nomads."
"They are what? Do you mean that they appear poor? They are not."
"They have no permanent settlements. No-mads. They travel and live off the land.” She reached for his hand and was considerably soothed when he wrapped his fingers around hers.
"They do have settlements. One of which is larger than Damali.” He leaned over and pulled a computerized communications unit from under his couch. She stared at it and wondered again at these people who lived and thrived in this old world manner, and kept technology under the bed.
She looked at the map Q'winn displayed in amazement.
"This is Damali,” he said, indicating a tiny dot on the map. “This is the whole of the Setannar Desert."
"My god. It's vast!"
"If that means very large, yes, it is.” He took her hand again.
"This may not be the best time to tell you this. Or maybe it is.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Do you wonder how the Setannar Desert came to be?"
"No. Should I?"
"It is always wise to question what lies beneath the surface. What lies beneath the Setannar is our past."
"What do you mean?"
He pushed a few controls on the unit. Artist rendered views of a lush, tropical city scrolled across the screen. “This was the city of Elpida on the Kelea River."
"Where's Elpida located?"
Trista washed cold as Q'winn called the map back up and pointed to a spot just off center of the desert. There was no city, or river, where he pointed.
"Elpida. The city named ‘hope’ on the river named ‘bright'” he said almost bitterly. “It was destroyed by the Raku over a thousand years ago. All that remains is dust."
"How did this happen?"
"We angered them.” He rose and bolted his door, then dropped onto his couch. He leaned back against the wall, and patted the spot beside him. Trista went and settled beside him.
"We have legends—stories—handed down from antiquity. No one knows how old the stories are, where they originated. They tell of a race of strange beings who came from the sky in fantastic vessels that flew like birds."
Trista moved Q'winn's hand from her thigh to his and stared at him. “Just concentrate on the story,” she said as he smiled at her.
"There are old drawings that have survived so we know today that these beings were the Raku. They came and said they were our friends. We traded with them. Then different people began to remember things.” He paused and slipped his arm around her.
"You may find this troubling, Trista, but I would not keep it from you any longer."
"I'll be fine. Honest. Just tell the story. It will help me understand, won't it?"
He nodded and continued. “They remembered being taken to the Raku ships and experiments being performed on them."
Trista turned and stared at him. “There are stories of such things on my world,” she told him. “Most people don't believe them."
"Most people did not believe at first here, either. But the Raku were arrogant and became careless. A young woman managed to steal an item off their ship. Their memory erasing techniques did not work on her. When she showed her proof to the Elders, they believed."
"Is this the Elders of Sioda?"
"Higher up. The Elders of Dannarus, Sioda's consort."
"I've not heard much about Dannarus."
"As a guest here, you would not."
"Guest, huh? Just go on with your story."
"The Elders hatched a plot to steal technology from the Raku. And it worked. It worked so well that after a few hundred years, we had secretly completed our first spaceship and were ready to test it.
"We waited until the Raku had left. We knew from experience that they would not return for many seasons. The ship flew. It was a huge success! We had a few more in various stages of completion and we finished them as rapidly as we could. Are you getting all this?” he asked.
Trista nodded. She und
erstood Dannarri better than she spoke it. He was trying to use common words as much as possible for her.
"I think. You put several ships in space. Go on,” Trista urged him again.
"We flew for nine seasons, then we grounded the ships. The Raku came the next season and stayed for a full cycle. When they left, we took to the stars again. There is a mural I will show you of the ships covering the skies of Mahdis. It's the most incredible thing! It was that mural that had made me long for space as a young boy."
"But then, somewhere along the way, the Raku discovered the Dannarri had made it to space. And made it on technology stolen from them. Am I right?” Trista asked.
"Yes. It took many seasons—years—before it happened. They had grown suspicious of us and we had grown careless. They came with several ships and laid waste to Elpida.” He sighed leaned his head back and closed his eyes as if it was something he could remember.
Trista lifted his hand and laid it back on her thigh. His mouth bowed into a smile but he didn't move. He finally turned his head enough to look at her.
"We were very fortunate in some regards. They only struck Elpida. Over ten million people lived in the city and in the villages along the Kelea. They all died instantly."
"And that is fortunate?” Trista asked, shocked.
"No. Not that. That is tragic. But we did not die as a people. The Raku didn't bother with the scattered places such as Mahdis. We had ships hidden, and ships in space that they did not find. They struck with their weapons and then left us. They've not returned."
"And you are going after them? Q'winn!” Trista was alarmed. She turned and grabbed his arms. He flinched slightly as her nails dug into his skin but that was all. “Tell me you are not going after them!"
"We cannot begin to attack them at their home world. But we begin to hunt them. We have learned much, Trista. They have fed on world after world. They have been to Cassai, Terra's nearest inhabited neighbor. How long until they find Terra? Your world is densely populated. Your world is unique. Your species is likewise unique, as far as we know. Should we not aid you?"
"But, Q'winn...” her voice trailed off. She had question after question she wanted to ask but didn't know where to start. She dropped her head onto his shoulder and felt his lips brush her hair. Footsteps, the click of boots with hard heels, approached the door.
The Skies of Mahdis Page 13