They spent several hours with Patha, going over the details of the treaty, discussing military strategy, and explaining the comm along with other military equipment that the Runners were willing to supply to the Gothman. When finally the two left the trailer, it was quite dark, and the Runner camp had settled. All was quiet.
When they returned to the Gothman camp, Darius informed the guards he wanted his men assembled so he could speak to them. Thirty minutes later, the soldiers gathered in the meadow, looking curiously at Tara as she stood next to their lord.
Tara listened and studied Darius’s men as he explained the treaty and the new equipment to be provided by the Runners.
“Today is a great day in Gothman history.” Darius’ voice boomed through the sound transmitter. “The Runners presented a treaty to me, asking Gothman to form a truce with them, and to exist as their allies. Runners are a race different from many since they have no land, and move from place to place in order to survive. They have learned about many races on Nuworld and know Gothman are the strongest and most powerful. So, they come to us seeking allegiance, and I have granted it. This is an excellent move for Gothman. The Runners have obtained knowledge that will now be readily available to Gothman. We go down in history today for discovering this race and seeing the advantages they can offer us.”
His speech was moving and the Gothman cheered loudly when he was done.
“Very soon each of you will receive a new communication device.” Darius held the one Tara gave him up in the air. “The Runners call it a comm. You will be instructed how to use it. This will become your principal way to contact others.”
Darius took it upon himself to demonstrate to those leaders who reported to him later how to wear the comm and how it worked. Not once did he ask Tara for assistance. She stood next to him without saying a word. When he was done with the demonstration, he led the way to his tent.
She followed. “You were rather impressive out there.” She secured the tent flap once they were inside.
He sat in his chair and kicked off his boots. “I have to be confident in front of the men always. You know that. Your equipment may be different than ours, but it’s not complicated to understand. I agree all our forces should be using the same means of communication.” He leaned back in his chair and stared across the dark tent. “You may think we’re more primitive than you because we don’t use these landlinks or have your advanced technology. But just because we are different doesn’t make one of our races better than the other. I have a tight rule over those men out there. I know how to speak to them. This war will be won, and Gothman will remain strong because of its leadership.” He paused and studied her face.
“Don’t let the words of my sister affect you. Just because she referred to you as primitive, don’t take it personally. She was out of line, as she usually is.” Tara sat next to him and took off her boots as well. “She doesn’t speak for Runners, or they wouldn’t be here.”
She draped her long legs across his and leaned back in her chair. “You best believe she doesn’t speak for me, or I sure wouldn’t be here.”
Darius ran his hand along her inner thigh. Then without another word he lifted her legs, got up and went into the other room.
She sat there, leaning back in the chair completely exhausted. She was almost asleep when he returned. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her. His shirt was off, and his bare chest distracted her out of her sleep.
Tara studied the different shades of golden curls that covered hardened chest muscles. She didn’t bother to wake up enough to talk, nor did she see reason to lift her eyes to his face. The view she had at the moment pleased her.
Darius must have noticed that she enjoyed the view, because he didn’t move. After a minute, Tara looked up and met his gaze.
“I have something for you. Come here.”
“What?” She followed him but stopped when she noticed a small box sitting on one of the pillows at the opposite end of the down mattress. “What have you done?” she whispered.
“Look for yourself.”
Shadows were casted over his face but she studied him for a moment. He was so large, a full-fledged killing machine of a warrior. More than likely he’d trained since childhood, as had she, to defend his people and fight for a world safe for them to live. But as she stared at him, even with his expression masked, she saw more. It wasn’t his first nature, but she swore she saw compassion. Possibly he did love her in the same way she loved him.
Tara walked around the mattress and picked up the small box, which was made of tree bark sanded until it was smooth as glass. She opened the small box and pulled out a delicate chain with a small gold circle on it. In the middle of the circle, a tear-shaped ruby was fused to the side. The deep crimson of the ruby glittered in the dim light.
“It’s the symbol of my clan,” Tara gasped, almost choking on her words. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away. She didn’t remember the last time she’d cried for any reason. Sitting on the mattress, she made a show of admiring it while composing herself.
Darius sat next to her and lifted her face. He wiped her tears with his calloused thumb. “I had it made for you shortly after I first saw you in town. I tell you, my lady, it was love at first sight. You and I were meant to live this life together.”
That did it. Tears streamed down her cheek.
He laid her back on the bed, wrapping his arms around her. Darius slid off her coat and lifted her shirt over her head. When he stood and began removing his clothes, Tara silently cursed the darker half of the tent for robbing her view.
“I suggest you take off those pants, my lady.” His voice was as dark as his shadowed face.
Another time Tara might have challenged him telling her what to do. But she wanted this and decided she’d choose her battles later.
Darius lay on top of her naked body, and his flesh touching hers urged her need forward until she was basking in it. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. He rose to his elbows and stared down at her for a moment.
“Do you like your gift?”
“You know I do.” She almost told him no one had ever given her anything so thoughtful. “Thank you,” she said instead.
His kisses caressed her flesh. Several times she tried to roll over and take charge of the lovemaking, but he pinned her and continued to make love slowly, taking his time enjoying her body.
She fought to control the speed at which desire swelled inside her, but he controlled even that. When he finally entered her, she attempted to thrust upward and bring him to a climax. Darius took her legs and pressed her knees to her shoulders. He had her captured in a frenzy of molten heat and swarming desire. There was no stopping him, unless she begged. No way would she do that. Not that she had words at the moment. Surrender was required to enjoy the moment. Tara might not have control, but she wouldn’t deny herself this pleasure. She refrained from screaming as he penetrated deeper than he ever had before.
“You are mine, Tara.”
She blinked to focus. Blond curls shifted around his face each time he thrust and sunk further into his heat. Pressure built until it exploded and boiled over, searing her entire body as her release ruptured through her insides. Darius let out a low growl. Every inch of him stiffened. Then he came deep inside her.
“You won’t ever own me,” she managed to gasp.
CHAPTER NINE
SEVERAL LONG cycles passed at a gruelling slow pace.
There was no indication the Sea People planned to attack. But, they were out there. Landlinks detected them in vast quantities just beyond Gothman borders. There was heavy artillery spotted throughout their camp. Yet they just sat there. Hell be doomed! It was irritating.
Darius’ men were restless. They were geared up to fight. He’d sent his scouts to physically observe the Sea People along with Runner scouts, who used viewers, which were long cylindrical tubes that magnified items in the distance. Most of them grumbled they should attack instead
of waiting for the enemy hovering on their borders to attack first. They didn’t belong there. The point was to force their retreat. They could have destroyed this drug-infested people and been home to their women by now.
His men began circulating rumors doubting the accuracy of Runner landlinks. When Gothman and Runner scouts verified thousands of Sea People with large amounts of artillery, those rumors stopped. It didn’t stop how irritable his men were, however.
“I wouldn’t be s urprised if the Sea People discovered Runner clans camped with Gothman so are waiting for reinforcements,” Tara suggested to the small group sitting around the table in Patha’s trailer.
“And who would they be waiting on?” Geeves, Darius’ personal assistant, stared at the Gothman map spread over the table and didn’t glance up.
Tara stood at the kitchen counter where she finished slicing a block of cheese. She didn’t take it to the table. No way would she would wait on Darius’ men. Leaving the sliced cheese on the counter, she plopped a piece in her mouth and moved to stand behind Darius, who sat next to Patha.
“ More Sea People to arrive,” she grumbled with her mouth full.
“I say we attack.” Darius looked at the others around the table, and Geeves grunted his approval. “Gothman won’t tolerate our borders lined with Sea People.”
“Runners don’t attack unless attacked first.” Patha didn’t raise his voice and focused only on Darius as he spoke.
“Tension builds among the men, my Lord,” one of Darius’ commanders said from behind Tara. He leaned against the wall by the trailer door. “They are ready to fight, and we have them sitting around like women.”
Tara cleared her voice, letting the commander know she didn’t like his comment.
“I can’t justify leading the Runners into combat.” Patha paid no attention to Tara but continued giving Darius all his attention. “The Sea People sit in Freeland territory, not on Gothman soil. Granted the Sea People are suspiciously close to your borders. It’s all their artillery that makes their intention clear.”
“So Gothman will sit and do nothing?” The same commander behind Tara raised his voice a bit with the question.
“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Darius scraped his chair against the floor as he pushed away from the table, almost backing into Tara. Darius came around the table to face his man. “In all of Gothman history, no attack has occurred before the enemy crossed Gothman borders.”
“We shall wait for the Sea People to make the first move.” Patha didn’t bother to stand.
Tara experienced the mounted tension everyone else fought to cope with when she left Patha’s trailer and rode through her clan. No one was pleased with their current circumstances.
The days stretched on and were growing warmer. Tara lay on the mattress in Darius’ tent and worked to pull her pants over her hardened belly. This had become a routine, trying to get her clothes to fit, but this particular morning it wasn’t going to happen. She absolutely could not fasten her pants. Time had given her what she hadn’t taken time to hear from a doctor. An answer. She was definitely pregnant.
Tara groaned at the thought that she might have to concede to wearing Runner pregnancy clothes. She stared at the ceiling of the tent, her hands still gripping button and button hole of her pants, and her fingers burning from trying to pull the material together over the growing bulge of her baby. She’d be forced to obtain some temporary clothing while her child grew within her, even though such articles would hamper her ability to climb on a bike and perform military maneuvers.
Tara decided to drive over to the Blood Circle Clan site and say hello to Balbo, her brother through Patha’s marriage. She’d been too busy with planning and training maneuvers to have visited him yet. Darius and Patha had decided mock battles, and mixing the races in combat, would help ease tension and the growing irritability among their warriors. Gothman and Runners would learn from each other. Darius had gone out early that morning to observe the battles. This left her the opportunity to leave camp without any questions. Besides which, Balbo might be able to help her with the clothing issue.
Patha had two wives over the winters, although Tara had known only one. His first had died in battle. His second wife, Cloya, raised Tara but died giving birth to twins when Tara had fourteen winters. One of the twins died with Cloya, and the other twin was sent to Cloya’s family to be raised. Tara had a sister, Tasha, and a brother, Balbo, who had been Cloya’s children when she married Patha. Balbo was older than Tara, but since he was not of Patha’s blood, was not heir to Patha’s clan. Balbo was a good man with little interest in leading the clans. He had always been supportive of Tara. Right now she needed a favor.
Balbo hugged and kissed his sister on the cheek when she entered his trailer. Then, looked confused after hearing her request. “You want what?”
“I need a pair of pants . Mine don’t fit anymore.” She privately begged that he wouldn’t ask why.
“Eating too much of that Gothman food?” He laughed but then scowled. “Tara, your face is gaunt. And why are there dark shadows under your eyes? Have you been to a doctor lately?”
“Why would I see the doctor because I’m tired? I just need a larger pair of pants.”
Balbo sighed and shook his head. But he brought her a pair of pants. As he handed them to her, he gave her that brotherly look she’d hoped not to see. “Tara, I’ve never interfered with your life, and I won’t start now. But, what’s the harm in stopping in and seeing Dr. Digo while you’re here?”
“We’ll see.” She hugged her brother and thanked him for the pants. “I wanted to say hello to a few people I haven’t seen in awhile. Maybe I’ll see the doc, too.”
Dr Digo had been her doctor all her life, or as long as she remembered. He’d tended her first laser wound and set more bones than she cared to count. He was a good man, and she didn’t mind stopping in to hear the latest stories.
“Tara, child, how you’ve grown. Why, you’re not even a child any more, but a beautiful woman. I’ve heard the stories about you…how you started a revolution. Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Here, have a seat, tell me a good story.” The old man patted the chair that was reserved for his patients and assumed his doctorly position, leaning on the examination table.
“Okay, here’s a story.” She squirmed in her seat, trying to get comfortable. “This young girl has reached the Age of Searching and is drawn to places she’s never seen. She enters a culture so different from her own. Doctor, I tell you, she is exposed to a way of life she had only heard about in many exaggerated stories. An old lady takes her in and teaches her about the culture and provides her with clothes so she will look like one of them. It was harder to give up her way of life than the girl thought it would be. Then, one of the men in this culture takes an interest in her. He knows her for who she is, but she doesn’t know this. She thinks she has him fooled. She comes to discover later that he not only knows her for who she is, but he knows more about her than she knows herself. I guess it was inevitable, fate some may call it, but she falls in love with him.”
“And, this man, does he love her too?” Dr. Digo looked interested.
“Yes, he tells her he loves her, and proves it by his actions. It’s just that their cultures are so different. She’s not sure they define love the same way.”
“So, what happens next?”
The old doctor had already moved over to the cabinets alongside the wall of his trailer and started opening drawers.
She ached from the tight pants she wore and tightened her grip on the pants in her lap. “I don’t know.”
Dr. Digo pulled a syringe out of the cabinet and moved over next to Tara. “Shall we find out?”
Tara didn’t answer but took off her jacket and pulled up her shirtsleeve.
Dr. Digo smiled as he drew the blood. He’d seen this look of concern and worry on many young women’s faces. They always approached him with the obvious staring him in the face and telling him they didn’t
know. He never argued and always let them be the first to admit it out loud.
Tara remained quiet as Dr. Digo took the blood over to his equipment on the counter. He turned the monitor so Tara saw the results as soon as they were available.
“Tara, you’re definitely pregnant. Would you like an examination?”
She consented and it was done.
Tara left the office wearing the pants her brother had given her. They fit much better but she knew they wouldn’t work for long. Dr. Digo told her she’d have a baby in five cycles, right before the New Winter. Only five cycles before her entire life would change—she would be a mama!
She rode away slowly, lost in thought, which is probably why she didn’t pay much attention to the young Runner standing outside Dr. Digo’s trailer.
The young boy leaned along the backside of the trailer watching her as she mounted her bike and disappeared into the camp. As soon as she was gone, he reached up and turned on his comm.
“I found her. She just left Dr. Digo’s trailer.”
Darius and Patha left at the same time and drove to Dr. Digo’s trailer.
“Come in, Patha. You’re not hurt, are you?” The doctor’s smile lessened as Lord Darius entered the trailer behind Patha. He looked at the tall blond man, who stared back, his expression unreadable.
“Digo, my friend, I’m not hurt.” Patha accepted Digo’s extended hand and shook it with both of his. “I’d like you to meet the Lord of Gothman. Lord Darius, this is Dr. Digo. He’s cared for my family as long as I’ve had one.”
Darius appraised the stocky older man, guessing his age to be close to Patha’s. The doctor looked nervous. Darius decided he didn’t care as long as the doctor told him what he wanted to know.
“Digo, we won’t take up much of your time.” Patha crossed the room and sat in the chair behind Dr. Digo’s desk.
Darius moved into the middle of the room. He sensed the doctor studying him. It made Darius wonder what Tara might have told the doctor about him.
Nuworld: Claiming Tara Page 19