by Julia Sexton
“Yes,” she said. “That will bring in the light from both sides, but let’s sit here by the window. I have something to tell you.”
Ac’von arched an eyebrow and sat next to her in the big, soft chair. “Yes?”
Mary did not sit. She stood in front of him. “Your back,” she said as she took an en guarde stance and then thrust her arm forward as if holding a sabre. “You are so broad in your back, but you don’t defend it. I watched you.”
Ac’von said, “Show me.”
Mary took a large fruit from the table. It looked like extra long celery without the ridges. She held it in her hand, then quickly turned her wrist up while at the same time dropping the end of the fruit down in a semi-circular position.
“Do you see how it diverts the other blade?”
Ac’von rose to take a similar fruit. “Show me again.”
Soon they were moving around the room thrusting and parrying.
Mary said, “Stop. You’re holding it like a man.”
Ac’von laughed. “I am a man.”
Mary thought about their night. “Yes, you are,” she said and smiled.
“Ri’son is big. He must depend on his brute strength and power behind the sword to render terrifying blows.”
Ac’von nodded his head. “Yes, that is my main concern. I’ve been practicing building the strength of my blows.
Mary said, “That is good. But, you can defend against them by being agile. What have your spy reports told you?”
Ac’von looked worried. “That he overpowers and defeats all of his opponents. He wins every bout.”
Mary held up her fruit. “Look at my hand.”
Ac’von studied her hand. “I don’t see anything unusual.”
“Look at my thumb. Look at my fingers.”
Ac’von studied her hand more. “Ohhhh, I see.”
Mary smiled. “Yes, now hold your fruit with the thumb up and the fingers gripping. Then move your wrist.”
Ac’von repositioned his fingers and moved the fruit in circles.
“Now try for the smallest circles you can make.”
Ac’von held out the fruit and rotated it in smaller and smaller circles.
“Now when I come in across as though going for your back, turn your wrist up while pushing my fruit away to the side and down.”
Mary thrust. Ac’von tried pushing aside her blade. He dropped the fruit.
“Again!” Mary said.
He picked up the fruit. This time, he turned his wrist and pushed her fruit aside.
“That’s it!” Mary cried in delight. “Small, controlled movements will parry heavy, uncontrolled thrusts. Tomorrow we will practice with real blades.”
Ac’von threw his fruit in the air as he jumped up. “My Ac’ver!” he shouted. “Defender of the Blacks.”
Then he took her in his arms and led her to his bed.
A storm of emotions swept through her. All the delight of last night returned to her body. And all the confusion of being abducted to a strange planet filled her mind.
“No!” Mary said. “Sex is not a reward. “
His face fell. Mary could tell he was confused and hurt. Then his face lit up. “Like asking for the wall to move?”
“Yes, it’s a little more complicated than that. But, yes.”
“Tell me.” He reached out his hand and placed it on her shoulder. Mary felt lightning heat zoom through her body. Every part of her wanted to dissolve into his arms and repeat last night’s experience. But, she still had that nagging fear. Two days was not enough time.
“First, I have a question. You told me that if you die in The Combat I will become virtually untouchable. Does that mean that Tu’von and Tu’ver would deny me? Would I also be an outcast on a planet I don’t know?”
Ac’von took her in his arms. “First, I am not going to die. And, no, you are forever part of The Blacks. It’s just that you would never marry. You would be what they call on earth a spinster. Is that the right word?”
Mary nodded her head. The feeling of his body next to hers set her in a fever of desire. Her nipples pressed against the strength of his chest. Her thighs pressed against his.
Mary continued, “And if there were no combat, how would it be?”
He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. She leaned closer into his embrace.
“That would be tomorrow. The Raman ceremony is small. Basically, it is a legal formality. There is a three-day waiting period. You have been here three days. Your time asleep was a day. Then there is an announcement and the next day is a general holiday in all of Rama.”
Mary pushed herself back and looked up into his handsome face. His dark, almond eyes gazed questioningly into hers.
“You were on Earth long enough to know that for most marriages there is an engagement period. A time before the actual wedding when the two people get to know each other on a more personal level than just sex.”
“Yes.”
“I have a proposal,” Mary said. “I am so new here and the Combat looms ahead. Let us do the ceremony tomorrow, but not announce it until The Combat.”
Ac’von nodded his head. “That will work well for Our People.”
“And, one more thing,” Mary added. “We will have our own private engagement. Even though we will be legally united tomorrow, we will wait until The Combat to unite. It will be our time to get to know each other.”
“Ac’ver, if you wish it, that will be how it is.”
Mary was so relieved she hugged him.
“And one more thing…”
He laughed and asked, “What is that?”
“I will help you train for The Combat.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning Zu’ver helped her dress for the ceremony. She chose the second black dress that Tu’ver had shown her that first morning and the same black boots.
Then she carefully arranged Mary’s auburn curls so that curling tendrils hung down the side of her face but piled the rest of her hair in a knot held with a long pin. At exactly 10 minutes before noon, Zu’ver placed a white cloak of the same soft fabric over her shoulders and fastened it closed in the front with a large gold pin.
The two of them left Mary’s room and took the elevator down to a rabbit warren of office spaces. “This is where all the business of the planet, the true ruling occurs. Financial and trade transactions, record keeping, everything that supports governance happens.”
She led Mary expertly through the halls and corridors until they could go no farther. She opened a door at the end of the hallway. Inside The Arbiter stood in the center of the room. Tu’von and Tu’ver stood to one side. In front of them Ac’von stood beaming.
Zu’ver lead Mary covered in her white cloak to stand next to Ac’von. The Arbiter beamed at her and then began the ceremony. It was all in Raman and Mary, with her limited table-chair vocabulary, was unable to understand. The Arbiter paused. Ac’von came closer and looked into her eyes. His face shone with pleasure. He reached out and pulled free the pin in her hair. As it tumbled around her shoulders he ran his fingers gently through the curls.
Then he stepped back to look at everyone in the room. The Arbiter stepped forward and with a dramatic sweep of his arm pulled the pin fastening her white cloak. The cloak fell to the floor as Ac’von took her in his arms.
Everyone applauded as he pressed his lips against hers and the fire roared through her body. The next two weeks would be a trial of her patience. She wondered if she could wait until The Combat was over.
“My Ac’ver, secret queen,” he murmured. Then he broke away and turned to all, “Let us celebrate the continuance of the clan of Black. Right leadership, sound counsel, and a beautiful queen.”
Servants unveiled a table covered with delicacies. Ac’von strode to the table and poured some Raman wine into two golden goblets. He came back to Mary and handed her a goblet. Then he touched his goblet to hers. “To The Blacks, Rama, and The Queen Ac’ver.” They both sipped from each other�
�s goblets.
Everyone crowded around to congratulate them.
Mary made her first proclamation as queen. “And, now to practice.”
The next few days Mary went through the spy reports on Ri’son and drilled Ac’von in the fine wrist movements necessary for skilled parries. What she discovered was that he could do them well enough with her, but when he practiced with other swordsmen who used big, broad strokes his attention would go to the strength and not to skilled maneuvers.
Ac’von kept his promise. The wall was in place each night and he did not try to overcome her with his power. Mary noticed how fair he was with each person he met whether a spy reporting, a civil servant bringing reports on grain movement, or his fellow combatants in the gymnasium. She felt her respect for him grow.
But one thing troubled her, his incredibly rude behavior in Cherryvale. She just couldn’t reconcile that with the Ac’von she had experienced since she came to Rama. As the days went by and she saw him behave in such honorable ways to everyone she became even more confused. How could that rude, aggressive treatment be the same person she experienced each day? Would he revert to that behavior at some unexpected moment? How could she trust him?
Their night of sexual splendor was never far from her mind. She was drawn to his body the moment he entered a room. Watching him move in the gym sent shivers down her spine. He was a beautiful creation. Watching him move made her heart beat in uneven rhythm. She found herself catching her breath as he made some powerful move in practice or even when he walked across the room before sitting down to dine with her. She kept the physical attraction in check, most of the time, because that man she had experienced in Cherryvale was always in the back of her mind.
One day not only the spies, but rumors in the palace, spread about Ri’son. He had killed two of his own Reds in practice combat. The story went that he had lost his temper and deliberately stabbed one in the back.
As Zu’ver put it in her chatty way, “His opponent won the bout and as he turned to leave, Ri’son roared and ran him through from behind. Those Reds, they have no scruples. And Ri’son is the worst of them all.”
Mary felt a chill of fear. Before this moment, The Combat had been theoretical, something that with right training Ac’von would win with finesses against brute force.
“And what happened to the second man?”
“Oh, that was worse. The way the story goes, and I have heard several versions, Ri’son was practicing out in a field to imitate the rough ground of the arena. The Reds were cheering him on. A crowd of onlookers gathered around.
Someone from the crowd cried, ‘Ac’von.’ Ri’son stopped his practice and turned in a circle eyeing the crowd. Then, you know how big he is, Queen Ac’ver, he turned to his sparring partner and said, ‘This is what I will do to Ac’von!’ He raised his sword and before everyone he brought it down on his opponent’s shoulder.
The blade cut down to the waist. Oh, my Queen, the stories that are going around. My friend, Su’ver, was only a few blocks away. She heard the roars, and she says…”
Mary didn’t hear anymore. Her mind was gripped in fear. Ac’von! Then her heart flooded with emotions. She realized she cared about him.
She cared about him in a very personal way. She remembered his attentiveness on their walk among the people, and his conscious attempts to include her in decisions rather than ordering her to do something. He was like a little kid learning new lessons. She thought about how his face lit up when he got it right. D
id he care about her? He said he “knew” she was the one for him, but she had thought that was some physical attraction, not genuine caring. And that his politeness was some trained behavior pattern for being in charge, his political acumen.
Suddenly, she wanted to be with him, to hold him, to have him hold her. She wanted to feel his hand caressing her cheek or running through her hair. But he was in some civic meeting.
She kept herself busy waiting for him to return from the meeting. She opened the wall, she had the servants bring in a table of food and wine, she rearranged the chairs in front of the window—an in here, an inch there. At last she heard his footsteps in the hall outside the door.
When he entered she rushed into his arms crying, “Ac’von. Oh, Ac’von.”
“What is it?” he asked, responding to her alarm.
Mary felt the warmth of his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart calmed her fears.
“I’ve been here long enough to be afraid. I heard the most terrifying stories about Ri’son.”
“Yes, I heard them, too. But he has always been like that. Isn’t that how you experienced him on Earth, just emotionally not physically? He bullies.”
“But, now you are in physical danger.” She pressed her head against his shoulder. Just feeling his strong presence calmed her fears.
“We fought once before,” Ac’von said. “Here, let’s sit and I will tell you.” He led her to the chairs by the window. Stars twinkled. Mary longed for the simplicity of Cherryvale. Isn’t that why she had moved there after her job disappeared? Plain, everyday, normal people with everyday concerns. Now here she was on a distant planet, a queen of a people she didn’t understand who didn’t even know she was queen…yet. She leaned against Ac’von as he told the story.
“We were very young, not really men. But he sent an examination over a small, perceived affront over a game. The issue doesn’t matter. I’ve experienced him in a fight. I think you call it being a ‘dirty fighter.’
Anything that he can do to distract or feint his intention he does. I’m sure he is more skilled at it now than he was then. I won that fight, but it was merely luck. You’ve seen how the ground is uneven in the arena and in the midst of fighting things fall to the ground. That day there was a metal bracelet hidden in the earth. He stepped on it and stumbled.”
“Would you have won if he hadn’t stumbled?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know. Then, we were about the same size. But, now…now, he is so much bigger.”
He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Mary snuggled into him. Her breasts tingled as fire shot through her body.
Ac’von stroked her curls. Shivers ran down her back as her core ignited in fire. He ran his hand over her shoulder. He moved in the seat to turn toward her. He brought is sensual lips next to hers and pressed them into a kiss. She felt his tongue probe along her lips. Her fear dissipated in the heat of her response.
“Ac’ver,” he said. “I am going to tell you a secret. I know you will not tell this to anyone.”
Mary looked up into his dark, almond shaped eyes. She saw fear.
“I am afraid.” He let it hang in the air.
“I am afraid, too,” Mary said. “But your fear is easier to conquer. You are afraid of losing, right? Afraid of letting down the Blacks, Rama, and The Way.”
“Yes. It is not just me.” He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes as his fingers stroked her jawline. “You are my Ac’ver. I must take care of you.”
Mary said, “I have a secret, too. This afternoon when I heard about Ri’son and the things he did to men who were supporting him, innocent in their own way, I felt something new. I cared about you. It wasn’t that if something happened to you I would be doomed as an untouchable. I realized that I care for you in a way I’ve never felt before.”
“What is that way?”
“Deep, in my heart.”
“Ah, your heart. You are not afraid of me anymore? Or angry at me?”
“No, I want to be with you. I like being with you. Yes, all of Rama and the customs, all of that is new. But I like the time we spend together. Even the quiet time. I’ve never sat quietly with someone before. It’s like being together and being united in silence.”
“What about the time in the gym? That is the opposite of quiet.” Ac’von laughed. “You can yell with the best of them.”
Mary blushed. “It’s my training. Different than yours, but I’ve been fencing since I was a child.�
�
“Ah, my fencing master and my queen.”
Mary laughed and snuggled into him feeling his warmth ease her fear.
“I am so far from Cherryvale.”
They had made a promise. She wanted to break it. She wanted to take off his clothes and climb on top of him and make love until they were both spent. All the fires burned inside.
“Ac’von, from now until The Combat, I will be your fencing master. We will drill and drill every parry that I can think of. I will show you how to push his sword aside and then go in on attack. No wild wielding of the sword. Every move you make will be calculated.”
She stood up and then bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “Tomorrow morning we go beyond practice to strategy. Now, it’s time for sleep.”
Before he could say a word she activated the wall and walked through the door into her room.
CHAPTER NINE
“Aieeeeee! Thrust. Now. Thrust!” Mary cried as Ac’von sparred with the best swordsman at the gym. “Do it again and this time don’t hesitate. Go from pushing his sword aside to going forward with a thrust.”
They repositioned and began again. Ac’von moved very quickly. As beautiful as he was to watch, Mary kept her eye on the blade. This time, his wrist turned up to push the blade away and then his powerful legs moved him forward into a thrust that hit his burly opponent squarely on the chest. Mary had him sparring with the burliest men of the Blacks.
“It works. It works. I see it now,” Ac’von exclaimed with pleasure and pride.
The rest of the week Ac’von practiced under Mary’s tutelage. And, word went out from the gymnasium. The new queen was a master swordsman. Whenever she was out, people cheered.
Mary thought, if we have spies, Ri’son must have them too. Was he practicing? But all the reports came back that Ri’son was hewing and hacking at his opponents without any change. Was it a ruse? If it was, it was a good one.
They practiced until there was no tomorrow.
The day of The Combat Mary woke early. Was Ac’von ready? Would fast movements really overcome the brute power Ri’son displayed? Even more worrying was Ri’son’s habit of unpredictable ruthlessness. Whether leading unscrupulous science or fighting with weapons, he was not above cheating.