“The Power of the Eon is now merged.” He stated simply, his voice echoing in the silent room.
Ediskrad turned to the messenger, Baltra. The bathetic man was nearly shaming himself with his threatening tears. Eventually he would be forced to discard the obviously weak man, but he would do for now. “Baltra! Go, deliver my command to the War Lord. He is to report to me here, with the woman.” As his messenger scurried from the room, Ediskrad turned back to the officials, “I have found and selected the woman I will enter into bond with.
She is not of this world – she is alien to Rodnekow'E. This woman is blatantly marked with superiority – it is only right that she bear the next generation of the Eon. The bonding ceremony will occur, and the celebration of My Poyat will be met with the R'kowe’s first queen since the last Eon of Power ended.”
There was a pause that almost had him commanding the execution of every official in the room, but then the celebratory – if confusingly muted cheer – spread through the room. He commanded the lower soldiers guarding the room to drag Nikana’s cooling corpse to the side of the room. Ediskrad was blind to the censure of the men at such disrespect to his twin.
The value and honor of the R'kowe view of the male twin phenomena had never occurred to Ediskrad. Nearly every male of Rodnekow'E was born as part of a pair – in fact, when a male was born without a twin it was assumed that he would be lacking. That was the justification to many as to why the War Lord had never taken a mate to bond. For Ediskrad a twin had been a tolerable nuisance until he would be better served to not have one.
Officials came up one by one to declare their allegiance to him as their one and only King. The last had just made their declaration when Baltra came bursting into the room, his feet barely finding purchase as he slid on the stone.
“My Highest Majesty! My Highest Majesty – the War Lord has betrayed you.” The weak-willed man cried.
“What nonsense is this?” Ediskrad demanded.
“The War Lord is missing from the consort’s level. The woman is missing with him!”
For a moment, Ediskrad was stunned into silence. Halden, the most honorable of R'kowe warriors – the strongest, most powerful of them – had betrayed him. If it wasn’t obvious that the woman was missing, Ediskrad would have laughed and declared such a claim as absurd.
Ediskrad didn’t notice the officials shifting back as his rage blossomed into the air around him – blindingly black. The cloud of darkness surged and crackled. Suddenly it reshaped and speared into the messenger, draining the useless man of his worthless life.
It was the first demonstration of the newest chapter in the Eon. As a roar of rage burst from the King’s throat, many of the officials silently wondered if the sky would be black in the morning, instead of the already fondly remembered unstable red.
*
Halden was tired. He could and would continue as he burst through the last hidden passage, through the heavy, hinged stone door that marked the end of the passage into the muggy late-night air of the Rodnekow'E night.
The woman stirred on his shoulder. The rocking shift of his body had eventually lulled her into a light slumber. She shifted, forcing Halden to stop at the edge of the jungle before them to readjust his hold on her. Matrise sighed and resettled her head on his shoulder.
The weight of her plumper figure only registered because he was tired – but Halden knew that he could easily carry her through the jungle.
He hoped to make it to the densest part of the jungle before being forced to rest, so Halden turned and led with the shoulder that Matrise was not resting on and shoved into the thick foliage of the forest.
Chapter 6
Surprisingly fingers of red stretched across the sky as dawn broke over the horizon. Hlden had almost expected the sun to refuse to rise as Ediskrad had undoubtedly defeated Nikana the night before.
The woman still slept, her head rested on his shoulder. He had been concerned during the night that she was unwell – he hoped that she was only tired from her journey to Rodnekow'E, however it had occurred.
Halden spotted a particularly large merdlit tree. The base of the trunk was as wide as the bedchamber in the tower of the palace and thick branches speared into the air, crossing and tangling over each other in their search for sunlight.
Halden noticed a thicket of branches in the tree that, if unoccupied by other creatures, would afford them some safety so that he could rest. He was exhausted.
More than the physical exertion of carrying the bundle of weapons as well as the woman, the stress and burn of the bonding need and mating urges had worn him down. He needed to sleep.
Halden shifted Matrise so that she was balanced over his shoulder, her hair dangling down his back. He then tossed the bundle of weapons high and was desperately grateful when the bundle successfully stayed on the branch above instead of falling back down.
Carefully minding the balance of the woman on his shoulder, Halden climbed up the trunk of the tree. Checking that the bundle was secure where it had landed, he then maneuvered Matrise and himself through the twists of the crossing branches and worked over to the cluster of branches that had initially caught his attention.
As he made his way through the tree, Halden checked through the gaps in the canopy and was reassured that he had made it deep enough into the thick of the jungle when he could only barely glimpse the very tip of the towering mountain, in the lower level of which the Cliffside city had been cut into its face.
He was relieved to find not only that there was in fact a space contained in the twists of the clustered branches, but that it was both uninhabited and actually accessible to him, considering his size. Halden eased the sleeping Matrise through the gap in the branches ahead of him before clambering into the naturally occurring ‘room’ after her.
She curled in one of the dips of the trunk of the tree and settled in to sleep. Halden stretched out, bracing his feet up on one of the branches surrounding them so that he could lay with his back flat to the floor of the tree room. In no time exhaustion claimed him, drug him beneath consciousness, blinded him to the lightening sky and allowed Halden to sleep.
*
He had torn the palace apart himself. The drapings of the Consort’s level were in shreds, the furniture overturned, the floor littered with broken crockery and other shattered items from the shelves. A number of servants had failed to remove themselves form Ediskrad’s presence quickly enough and law lay dead on the floor.
He didn’t even bother stepping over the corpses that littered the stone floor, but merely tread over them when his boots came upon such an obstacle. Dawn was beginning to streak the sky; the air around the city crackled ominously. One of the remaining servants hastened to fling open the large main doors that would lead out into the courtyard as Ediskrad approached.
He was satisfied to see the prepared military company, waiting for his command, packed into the vast expanse of the courtyard.
“Has the city been searched,” Ediskrad demanded of one of the one of the recognizable warriors, Mishtal.
“Yes Highest Majesty. There is no sign of either the War Lord or the woman that is with him.”
“They could not have just disappeared,” Ediskrad snarled.
“Highest Majesty,” Mishtal’s twin, Mishtlan, interjected as he stepped forward. The Misht-twins, like most R'kowe twins were identical; however, it was easy to differentiate between these two as Mishtlan’s face was marked by a long scar running beneath his eyes, across his face, over the bridge of his nose.
It was the mark of a youthful lesson learned the hard way when he had come upon a hogyuk on his first venture into the Lower Jungle.
“I regret to be the one to suggest this, but, is it possible that the War Lord ventured into the Lower Jungle? He is one of few R'kowe that does not flinch at the prospect of spending days or even weeks in the wilds.
Honestly, I was with him once out in the thick of the Lower Jungle – he seemed to even enjoy it.” The scar-fac
ed Misht drifted back into the crowd of Ediskrad’s warrior while the King stewed over the suggestion.
Ediskrad contemplated the possibilities and realized two things. First, it was undeniable that the only way for Halden to continue to evade detection was that he must have vanished into the Jungle during the night with the woman.
And second, Ediskrad, himself, would have to go into the Lower Jungle for the first time since he and Nikana had abandoned Odnek and moved their civilization into the freshly carved Cliffside. If he did not go into the Lower Jungle, Ediskrad would have no way of guaranteeing that he reclaimed what belonged to him.
Halden will have to die for this alone – I hate the Jungles of this world!
*
The smell of damp earth and living foliage surrounding her, filled Matrise’s nostrils. But, under the pleasant natural scent, there was a fragrance that teased at her senses even more profoundly. Hot spice, thick forests, and fresh rain – it was enough to make a woman’s mouth water first ting in the morning. Though, judging by the heat, it had to be late morning.
Matrise stretched and found that her muscles were stiff and not a little sore. She had slept on something quite hard. She sat up and nearly groaned as the muscles along her hip protested – loudly. Yet, when she finally opened her eyes, Matrise forgot about the aches.
Where the hell am I? Are those branches? I feel as if someone grew a room out of a tree around me – there weren’t any trees in that city…at least none this big.
The confusion cleared and Matrise realized that she had fallen asleep during the escape.
Halden must have continued to carry me…how embarrassing – oh shit! Halden!
She quickly looked around and found the giant breathing bronze and mahogany statue asleep beside her. It was a wonder that she hadn’t noticed him right off. The heels of the man’s heavy boots were hooked onto one of the bulging branches that surrounded them.
Matrise took the opportunity to give the man a thorough study. Not that his gold and black eyes were closed, other features became more obvious. The bow of his metallic lips, the thickness of his neck – the man’s eyes were hypnotizing and could distract from other equally noteworthy characteristics.
Her gaze had barely mapped his face when the lids shuttering those compelling eyes fluttered. Long, dark lashes feathered and flitted over the flat planes of his cheeks. Then, as if sensing her attention, they lifted and gold and black eyes bored into hers
*
The whisper of instinct saying that someone was staring at him had woken Halden up. He had feared for the worst, but when he had opened his eyes – ready to fight, ready to defend the woman, he had found her staring down at him.
Relaxing, Halden lifted his arms and arched them over his head to brace his palms flat against the branch, fingertips pointing toward him, and lifted his body upward.
After stretching the tense muscles of his stomach and chest, Halden lowered himself and dropped his feet from their brace so that he could twist his torso over his hips.
He felt the little pops, heard the more significant ones as he pivoted first one way and then the other. He sighed in relief and when he looked back at Matrise he realized she had heard the shifting as well.
“Well I am glad that someone can get a good pop that easily. I have to perform insane acrobatics or have someone walk up and down my spine to get anything to shift,” she muttered with a hint of disgust.
A quick bark of laughter escaped him, a number of his men had expressed equivalent envy over the years. Halden shifted into a crouch and considered the woman in front of him.
They needed to keep moving, but they both slept into the heat of the day. As long as they could stay beneath the canopy of the Jungle, they would probably be able to keep moving – well, if the woman didn’t wilt in hot wetness of the Jungle day.
“So, where are we going?” she asked.
“I hope that we will make it to an ancient city that was abandoned and lost to the jungle. It is little more than a legend these days.”
“We are going to a place you don’t even know exists for sure?”
“It might be little more than legend to most of Rodnekow'E’s people, but as I have actually been there, I can tell you it does exist.”
“So it’s safe?”
“In its way.”
“That’s reassuring.” Her tone, clearly stated that she didn’t find it to be in the least. “It is hot! Like Houston in a heat wave.” Matrise shifted and tugged at one of the swaths of fabric clinging to her body.
“It is nearing the heat of the day. Rodnekow'E has become increasingly hotter over the years since the Twin Kings took power.”
“What does that have to do with planetary warming?” she asked.
“Rodnekow'E reacts to the spirit of the one who rules. Or in the case of the Twin Kings, reacts to those who rule. When the King has a calm energy, the planet can become a stable paradise.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, it is not so where you come from?”
“No – Earth has issues with warming temperatures due to human interference in the ecology of the planet…it has nothing to do with the ‘spirit’ of any one man or group of people.” She explained.
“Interesting – it must be quite different on your world.”
“It is.”
*
Feeling that there wasn’t much more to comment casually on that front – at least not without sitting there talking about Earth for the next several hours, Matrise stood. She considered attempting to figure out exactly how Halden had twisted and tucked the material of the over-garments, but decided she just didn’t have the patience in this heat.
Matrise reached for the bottom of the draping robes, got two substantial fistfuls of the fabric and moved to strip it all off over her head.
“What are you doing?” Halden suddenly interjected.
Matrise paused in her upward lift and stared at the man for a moment – seriously? “It is miserably hot. I am losing some of these layers.” Matrise could tell that the man wanted to object, but he wisely didn’t comment, and she would have ignored him if he had.
*
Halden wanted to tell her to remain fully dressed, but she was right. It was hot – almost too hot. Since he planned to strip out of his own shirt, he figured he didn’t have much room to complain. Therefore, he turned to handle his own undressing while Matrise tended to her own.
When he turned back he found the intricate robes of the bonding ceremony costume wadded at her feet. She now wore only the thin, opaque leg-skimmers and the loose-hanging float top.
The sleeves of the float fluttered in the almost imperceptible breeze around Matrise’s elbows. The leg-skimmers hung smoothly down her legs, though they clung to the tops of her thighs and were stretched taunt over her hips.
Halden could catch glimpses of the bracers holding up the long boots underneath the skimmers and had to battle down his lust. Only exhaustion the night before had quelled his need – it was back in full force with the new day.
Would it have been too much to ask that I protect her from the King and the wilds of the Lower Jungle? Why do I have to protect her from myself as well?
*
Mishtal and Mishtlan glanced at each other. While neither would argue that it would likely take the entire army to take down the War Lord, neither of them particularly wanted to. Ever since they had first me the War Lord as boys, just learning to use their sword and bows, they had held him in the highest esteem.
The question was never asked, as it would require a lie, but both men – and a majority of those pushing into the first thicket of the Lower Jungle with them did as well – considered the War Lord more worthy of their respect, their admiration, their loyalty than either of the Twin Kings who had ruled over Rodnekow'E for the last 600 cycles.
The hotter the world had become, the thinner the lines of many families had become, whispers had breezed among men of all the living generations – the War Lord
had a grasp on the Power. Many hoped that he would eventually use it; and when he did, perhaps Rodnekow'E would enter a new Eon of Power – an Eon of fresh blood and soothing spirit.
The movement of the men was slow, but none dared to rush into the thick wilds. Others, like Mishtlan bore the marks of lessons learned in the wilds of the Lower Jungle. No one wanted to risk unknowingly coming upon a hogyuk, or sātpel, or the most feared Mol. They would risk the irritation of the blatantly unstable King to avoid a Mol.
*
Halden had helped her down from the tall tree he had sequestered them for safety while he slept – they slept. After he had loaded himself back up with his sword and whatever was in the bundle he had brought with them, he had reached for her. Matrise had taken a step back and bid him to leave her on her feet.
“I can walk you know.”
“I do not doubt that, but it would probably be easier if you allow me to carry you.” His argument was sweetly male, but Matrise wasn’t having it. She had enough embarrassment lingering from realizing that he had carried her through the entire escape and through the night.
“I’m fine. I can keep up. This isn’t my first trip into a forest. I have been hiking before.” He stared at her skeptically, leading Matrise to suspect that the women of this planet – none of whom had she seen yet – were not terribly inclined toward nature.
Finally he shrugged, took her hand and started walking deeper into the jungle. Matrise gawked and gaped at the massive size of some of the foliage.
I could use that leaf as a patio umbrella…The trees are as tall and thick as redwoods, but they stretch and sprawl like an aggressive banya. Hell, Halden is practically a walking cast bronze redwood himself.
*
It had been hours – long enough that the heat of the day had passed. They had put significant distance between them and the tree in which they had spent the night. Halden considered finding another place to stop – to sleep through the night instead of the morning, but he hadn’t noticed a cluster of limbs in the canopy that would shield them from a sātpel or Mol in the night.
Alien Lords' Captive (Celestial Mates Book 6) Page 6