Stardancer

by Ariel MacArran

  Kinara sent the woman to fetch his supper and returned to Aidar. He’d drunk almost half the wine she’d poured and she hurriedly refilled his cup.

  He pointed at the floor and she instantly took a place at his feet.

  She spent the next hour trying to anticipate his needs and serve him as best she could. Nothing seemed to please. She took the dishes the woman plated, which quite honestly looked a great deal more appetizing than what she had served him the previous night, and brought them to him herself. She placed the sauce bowl by his elbow in case he wanted to use it and kept his cup full.

  At the end of the meal, the Az-kye woman tidied up. When her task was done, she bowed to Aidar.

  He let her stand there. His dark eyes flashed to Kinara for an instant.

  “Slave,” he said to the woman. “What is your name?”

  The woman was visibly startled but she didn’t lift her eyes. “I do not have one.”

  “Think you I care for your feelings?”

  “My lord,” the woman stammered. “I have none, lest it please you that I do.”

  Aidar threw a sharp look at Kinara then addressed the woman again. “Come here.”

  Hesitantly the woman approached as Aidar stood. He pulled her against him and kissed her hard. The woman remained pliant and after a moment he released her.

  “Go you now,” he ordered.

  The woman bowed, more shakily this time, and hurried out of the room.

  “See you, Tellaran?” he demanded.

  Kinara nodded. “I see very well, my lord. You are a bully.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what is ‘bully’?” he asked, awkward with the Tellaran word.

  “A bully is someone who torments those who are weaker than themselves. Someone who orders people around who have no choice. Someone who is so cowardly they can only hurt those who cannot fight back. Someone,” she said acidly, “just like you.”

  His face flushed with fury. “You call me coward?”

  “You are a coward! You can punish that woman with a reason or without one, and she knows it too. She’s terrified of you and has no way to fight back!”

  “Be you silent!”

  Kinara was so angry she shook. “You are nothing but a cowardly, bullying savage!”

  “You have no name and no honor!” he roared. “Your words are nothing!”

  “I have honor and I have a name, and she does too!” Kinara shouted with a gesture at the door. “Oh, you scare her enough that she’ll say she doesn’t but she remembers her old life and the people she loves. She has feelings, just like I do! Tell me, are you proud of yourself, Aidar?” she demanded. “Proud for showing me what a warrior you are against a helpless woman?”

  The color drained from his face. He pushed past her and with a sudden jolt of panic Kinara saw he was going for the door.

  She darted forward and held her hand out to him. “Oh, gods! No wait!” she cried. “I shouldn’t have said — Please! My people — don’t hurt them!”

  He stopped at the door, his fists clenched. “I am not the demon you think me, Tellaran!”

  She ran after only to find he had already locked her in.

  Aidar’s eyes narrowed as he circled Dael. His foster-brother swung his sword. Snarling, Aidar blocked it and shoved back with such force that he sent Dael sprawling.

  Aidar stood over Dael, breathing hard, his bare chest streaming with sweat.

  From the floor of the Circle, Dael blinked up at him, astonished.

  With a curse, Aidar flung his practice sword away. It bounced and skidded, echoing in the emptiness of the large room.

  Dael got to his feet and brushed his dark hair back. It had come loose from its tie during the long practice and his face was drawn and streaked with sweat. Dael leaned his hands on his thighs as he sought to catch his breath.

  “I have offended you, foster-brother, that you attack me so?” Dael gasped.

  “You have not,” Aidar said shortly.

  “One of your warriors displeases you?”

  Aidar wiped the sweat away from his eyes. “No.”

  “Ah,” Dael straightened. “It is the Tellaran female then, the one with hair like fire.”

  “What do I care for the doings of a slave?”

  Dael shrugged. "She seems biddable enough."

  "Biddable?" Aidar pushed his damp hair back. “She is impossible! I give her wine from my own cup, I let her sleep while I labor and she gives not even a smile in return!”

  Dael nodded solemnly. “Truly none would believe you care for the doings of a slave, foster-brother.”

  Aidar scowled at him. “Pity your sword is never as cutting as your tongue, Dael.”

  Dael laughed. “Ah, for this I do apologize. Cenna shares this trait but I think it is better in a woman to have sharp words.”

  “Our sister could learn much from the Tellaran woman.”

  “A shame she is clanless. She would make a good mate for you.”

  “She!” Aidar exclaimed. “She is contrary, rude, stubborn—!”

  “A good match indeed.”

  Dael ducked back grinning as Aidar took a threatening step toward him.

  “I cannot control her,” Aidar grumbled. “She shouts at me. She calls me coward.”

  “I cannot believe it so!” Dael’s dark eyes were amused. “Women of the Empress’ City fell weeping when you left.”

  “She is not Az-kye. She is pleased only when she looks on Tellarans.”

  Dael shifted his weight and his gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Foster-brother?” Aidar frowned. “Something troubles you?”

  “I have looked on your Tellarans much while your duties involved you elsewhere.”

  “This I know,” Aidar said, puzzled. “I am grateful for your labor.”

  Dael looked off to the other side of the Circle. “I am pleased to look on one of them.”

  Aidar blinked. “Which female pleases your eye, Dael?”

  “The one with the golden hair and eyes as blue as Lashima’s sacred pools.” Dael’s words came out in a rush. “She is delicate as a little bird and she has a quick, sweet smile. The Tellarans call her Nisara.” His color rose and he avoided Aidar’s gaze. “I think . . . I think it is not displeasing to her to look on me.”

  “I remember this one now,” Aidar said, crossing the floor to retrieve his sword. “Others have remarked on her.”

  “Others? Who?” Dael hurried after him. “You have not promised her to another?”

  “I think she would be pleasing to Malm.”

  “Malm! He is clumsy and stupid! He will be brutal with her! How can you give him her when I–” Dael suddenly stopped, staring. “You tease me.”

  Aidar laughed. “You do not hesitate to tease me, foster-brother.”

  Dael’s face flushed again. “I should not have done it.”

  “Well is my task done if you remember that. But come, Dael,” Aidar clapped his foster-brother’s shoulder. “Does she please you so, she is yours.”

  Dael’s face split into an unwarriorlike grin. “I thank you, foster-brother.”

  “Your problems are easier solved than mine own.” Aidar poked at the floor with the point of his sword. “She calls me ‘bully’.”

  “What is this?”

  Aidar explained, and Dael shook his head. “Why does she call you so?”

  “Because today I was such, though I sought only to teach her the proper way to behave. What am I to do when her behavior offends another? I can bear it but should she offend another I must give her over or lose my honor.” Aidar stabbed hard at the floor, leaving a dent there. “She disobeys, she is disrespectful and still I cannot punish her.”

  “Give her to another to train.”

  “I did so! I gave her unto Barin to train. She was badly treated.” Aidar raised his eyes. “In my anger I have sent Barin to work with his slaves.”

  Dael's brow furrowed. “It is not your way to lose your temper so easily.”

  “She say
s she is not a slave because the Tellarans do not keep such.” Dael’s eyes widened and Aidar held up his hand. “Tellaran logic will make your head ache.” He sighed. “I sent for comforts for her fellows and still she is not pleased.”

  Dael shook his head. “You cannot be ruled by your own slave.”

  Aidar spoke quickly, “I think, perhaps if I give her to you–”

  Dael nodded. “I will–”

  “No! I do not know why I have said this. I will not give her to anyone.” Aidar looked away. “And she does not understand her life can be demanded at any time if she gives offense.”

  “You care so much for her life?”

  Aidar gave a short nod.

  “Then, foster-brother, you must find a way to secure her obedience.”

  Kinara rested her leg with as much of her body close to the holo-fire’s warmth as she could manage without falling off the couch. She was not used to the cold or laying around not doing anything.

  She couldn’t hope to overpower him. After she realized he’d locked her in she’d searched the rooms but couldn’t find anything she was sure both heavy enough to knock him out and small enough for her to wield easily. He didn’t wear a blaster either, only that stupid sword.

  With a sigh she relinquished her place by the holo-fire and wandered through Aidar’s quarters. They were decorated in almost painfully elaborate style. She studied a tapestry hung on the wall near the bed showing the violent battle scenes that, from what she’d seen on this ship, seemed to be a constant theme in their artwork.

  She opened a trunk near the wall again.

  It was filled with opaque white cubes the use for which she couldn’t fathom. She didn’t see how she could use them as a weapon so she’d left them be during her earlier search. Curious now, she picked one up, turning it this way and that, then carried it to the fireplace to get a better look. There was nothing in it that she could see. There was no catch or device to open it, only a dark funnel-like opening at the top. Peering down, she could see nothing but a tiny little hole.

  “Well, this is exciting,” she muttered. “No wonder he has a whole box of them.”

  She crossed the room, intending to fetch another to see if the little cubes fit together in any way when the thing slipped from her fingers.

  She jumped as the chamber was filled with the deep baritone of Az-kye song. It rumbled on deep and full and, eyes wide, she watched the knee high holographic projection of a man in wild costume singing his heart out.

  Just what he was singing she didn’t know. For all her fluency she could only catch a word here and there. The image of a woman joined the man’s and she began to sing with him, her voice high and lilting and it finally dawned on Kinara she was hearing an Az-kye opera.

  The realization hit her hard. The Az-kye she’d studied knew nothing of beauty or order. They were violent, uncivilized brutes, not music lovers.

  She couldn’t understand the words but there was a common thread of human emotion in the music. It was the sound of love, loss, and suffering. She sat on the floor to listen, so enthralled it was several moments before she realized she was no longer alone.

  The song faded softly away as the recording ended.

  “I did not know you cared for our music,” Aidar said quietly.

  “I didn’t know your people had music." She stood, bending to retrieve the cube. She cradled the cube in her hand. “It was beautiful.”

  “Shade of Quen’dalla.”

  She looked up and he gave a faint smile.

  “It is the name of the opera. A favorite of mine."

  “Oh.” Kinara fiddled with the cube for a moment. “I couldn’t understand much of it.”

  “It is in the ancient language.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “A warrior cursed with immortality for honoring pride before all else. He is driven by it to a battle while his bound mate dies. He wanders after her shade, forever seeking to join her in death.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Great pride carries a price.”

  “It doesn’t seem like a theme the Az-kye would appreciate.”

  His smile was rueful. “Think you, Cy’atta, my people have no fools? I did not believe you thought so highly of us.”

  “Well,” Kinara replied. “You got me there. I guess even Az-kye are human.”

  He inclined his head. “I am pleased you find us so.”

  “Mostly human anyway.”

  He sighed. “You are still angry.”

  “Do you care?”

  “Yes,” he said, his dark eyes reflecting the firelight. “I find that I do.”

  Kinara tossed back her hair. “I don’t think that I’ll be risking another ‘disobedient Tellaran’ lesson by telling you what I think, thanks anyway.”

  “Tell me your thoughts, Cy’atta. I will not punish you.” She didn’t answer and he sighed again, more deeply this time. “I have not punished any other for your words, either. Truly, you do find me ‘bully’,” he said, struggling over the Tellaran word.

  “And you don’t think you are?”

  “Yes, I admit, I was ‘bully’ today.”

  “I know why you did it.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You do?”

  “Of course. You wanted to show me what to expect from my new station in life.”

  “It was ill done of me.”

  “Is that an apology?” He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand. “Wait, let me guess. You don’t apologize to inferiors.”

  “You make this difficult.”

  “Why should I make anything easy for you? You have no thought for what I want.”

  “It is not my place to think of such,” he said, his tone suddenly sharp. “I have waited long enough. Come here.”

  Kinara froze, the cube still in her hand. “Why?”

  “Because I would have it so.”

  Kinara made her feet move until she was standing in front of him. His dark eyes reflected the flames.

  She started when he touched her and his hand slid over her waist to rest on her hip as he stepped closer.

  His fingers traced the skin of her cheek lightly. “You are not afraid?”

  She shook her head, unwilling to trust her voice.

  “I want your pleasure not your fear, Cy’atta,” he said, his voice husky. He tilted her face up and brought his mouth to hers.

  Her breath drew in sharply but he was gentle, his lips barely touching hers at all. He stayed like that, his lips just lightly brushing hers as he pulled her against him. His body was warm and solid against hers; his mouth became more coaxing, his tongue parting her lips to deepen the kiss.

  It was like falling into warm currents and the sensation held her still as he kissed her. He drew away and laughed, soft and breathless, at seeing the cube still held in her hand. He took it from her and tossed it onto a couch. He leaned his forehead against hers, letting his fingers run over her body from her shoulders to her buttocks. She shivered at the light touch.

  “Do you see? There is nothing to fear. We will both have pleasure in this joining.”

  She wanted this, wanted him too. It wasn’t something she was proud of either.

  His mouth was on hers again and this time her arms went around him instinctively, pulling him closer, breathing in his clean, exotic scent. His arm slid around her waist to draw her against the length of him. Kinara softened against him, her body heavy and languid as his hand rested on the small of her back, already aching for him.

  Gods, he feels so good.

  His lips traced her cheek. He bent her back as his mouth found the sensitive skin of her throat.

  Her eyes opened briefly. The Az-kye tapestry and its images of warriors with their teeth bared in battle came into focus.

  Kyndan, the Reliant crew, my friends . . .

  His breath was coming faster. Her heart thudded in her chest. She could feel him hard against her.

  I can’t forget what he is. What he will always be.r />
  And who I am.

  He drew away to look at her, his eyes sleepy with desire. “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  He cupped her chin, his glance going over her face, her hair.

  “Gods, I have never seen your like, Cy’atta,” he murmured hoarsely. He tilted her face to kiss her again. His hand slid under her hair to rest at the back of her neck as he explored her mouth, nibbling lightly at the corners. His mouth became more demanding and his breath quickened as she ran her hands over him.

  But when he drew away again, he was frowning. “Something has changed.”

  She didn’t bother to deny it, merely looking up at him.

  His expression was puzzled. “You offered yourself to me today. You are willing but you hold your spirit away. Why do you do this?”

  “I'll do whatever you want, Aidar. I'll please you if I can.”

  “It is not the same. You feel pleasure but you do not let it touch you.” He touched her mouth lightly with his fingers. “I want more.”

  She searched his face. “What you really want is for me to choose this, to give myself to you, isn’t it?”

  Sudden, unreasoning hunger flashed in his dark eyes then he frowned. “And what do you want in return for this choosing, this giving-of-yourself?”

  “Free my crew,” she said instantly. “Send them home.”

  He drew back. “I cannot.”

  “We’re yours, aren’t we? You can do whatever you want to with us, you’ve said so often enough.”

  He let her go. “You ask much for yourself, Tellaran. They are slaves. I cannot do this.”

  Kinara caught the hesitation, his weighing of it. “You can, can’t you? If you wanted to, you could get them back to Tellaran space.”

  His eyes were unfathomable. “I pledged the Tellarans to the Council of Elders. You ask me to break my word.”

  “But it is possible.”

  “It would be . . . difficult,” he replied, circling her, his gaze running over her as if she were a purchase he might make. “I will want much in return.”