It was an order, not a question. And it did seem as if she were beaten, without having received a single blow. Colossal strength did have its advantages. His hold was too tight to wiggle lose from, and she didn’t care to have her brains rattled again if she tried any more kicks. But concede? Not until her last options had been used, and one of them was to bring both legs up, plant her feet squarely in the center of his chest, and push back.
It worked, but only because he wasn’t expecting it. She went sailing backward to land hard on the ground, which was better than having her arms pulled out of their sockets if he hadn’t let go. But her push hadn’t knocked him over as it should have, giving her the extra moments she needed to catch her breath. Just as she rose she was shoved back down, the barbarian’s body pinning her to the ground. Her hands were captured, her legs held down by his, and if that wasn’t enough, he let her have his full weight, taking no more chances with her.
Breathing normally became a memory. Tedra had to fight for each breath and he knew it, but he didn’t ease even an ounce of the pressure bearing down on her.
“Now do you concede you are beaten.”
Again it wasn’t a question. And this time there wasn’t a doubt in either of their minds. Tedra couldn’t move an inch except to nod her head, and the moment she did she could breathe again. But all he did was ease his great chest off hers. He didn’t let go of her or move to get up. And he seemed perfectly content to stay that way as he looked down at her. Her own look was filled with disgust, all of it for herself. She’d made one mistake after another with the barbarian, but agreeing to the challenge was the biggest.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to kill me, are you?” He slowly shook his head. “I’m right handy at cleaning floors,” she lied. Again he shook his head, but this time with a grin. “All right, damn it, spit it out. What kind of service do you want from me?”
“This you know already, kerima. ”
Little one, or little girl, he’d called her, and however she cared to take it, she felt both at the moment. He was so farden big. And she’d already had a taste of his full weight. She’d never survive sex-sharing with him, she knew she wouldn’t, and yet who was there to stop him? She’d found out the hard way that she couldn’t. And even if she could, honor demanded she not try.
“There’ll be no assuming here, warrior. I want it spelled out, and to know how long it’s to last.”
“Very well.”
He rolled to the side now, telling her at least that the service wouldn’t begin just yet, for which she was more than grateful. She really had worn herself out trying to beat him. And then it hit her with the force of a blow. She’d been beaten. For the first time since she had become a Sec 1, she’d been beaten, and by a man she found utterly desirable.
A wave of vulnerability washed through her, and a thrill that flushed her cheeks and weakened her limbs. Here was a man she couldn’t walk all over, one who wouldn’t fear her abilities or worry about riling her temper. It seemed as if she’d waited forever for him, and she looked at him now wide-eyed, with a little awe and a lot of anticipation. She’d know sex-sharing at last. Even if it killed her, she’d enjoy every minute of it.
“What is it?” he asked, intercepting her look.
“I ... Nothing.”
She sat up and wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees. He was sitting next to her, his legs crossed. She couldn’t meet his eyes again, but he was having none of that. His hand turned her face to him.
“You agreed to honor the outcome,” he reminded her almost sternly.
Flustered by his touch, she pushed his hand away. “Don’t go doubting my honor again. I’m still waiting to hear what the outcome is.”
“For one month you will give me the service of a claimed woman.”
He said that with a certain amount of triumph. But then that was why he’d been so delighted about the challenge, because she couldn’t resist his claiming of her. And no matter how much she was looking forward to sex-sharing with him, that rubbed her a little on the raw. He ‘d known he couldn’t lose, even if she hadn’t. If that wasn’t underhanded, she didn’t know what was.
“You said this means I must yield to your will? In all things?”
“That is so.”
“That sounds a bit much, warrior. You also said this service could be a specific task or a certain type of labor, but just one kind only. If I have to clean your cave, cook your meals, and warm your furs, I’m afraid I’m going to have to protest. That’d be more than one service, wouldn’t it?”
He had to be annoyed with her for pointing that out, but damned if he showed it. She wanted a reaction from him. In fact, she wouldn’t half mind if he’d do some of that claiming right now. But all he did was seem to thoughtfully consider her point.
Finally, he said, “Very well, I will choose the service you have yourself named. Your words were ‘labor in the bedchamber’; thus wherever I sleep, woman, you will deny me nothing. Is that specific enough for you?”
She almost laughed. He actually thought he was making her regret protesting his first choice, that she’d like this one even less. She’d got a reaction out of him after all, not a typical one, but then he could in no way be called a typical man.
Not to disappoint him, she gave a long sigh. “What can I say, warrior? But you’re passing up an excellent floor sweeper.”
He grunted. “You would have done better as a claimed woman. It at least is a position of some respect.”
Her reaction had obviously been too mild to suit him. He’d wanted her angry, as angry as she had apparently made him by disputing his first choice.
“And a bed-warmer isn’t?” She smiled, then shrugged, unconcerned. “Well, then, since I’m having the job forced on me, you’ll just have to defend my honor, won’t you?”
He shook his head. “You will accept what comes, with no recourse. Service through challenge loss is not meant to be agreeable.”
She didn’t have his ability to conceal anger when it did show up. Her eyes glittered with it. Her teeth gnashed with it.
“Nice of you to tell me that after the fact,” she gritted out. “What other unpleasant surprises do I have in store for me? Some chains and whips maybe?”
Now he smiled, the farden beast. “I cannot know what would surprise you, when you knew so little of challenge.”
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t, so she demanded, “What about the chains and whips?”
“For what reason would such be needed, since you have agreed to accept my will as yours?”
“In the bedchamber only,” she reminded him.
“Wherever I sleep,” he reminded her. “But—” and now he grinned. “You are still a woman, not a warrior.”
He seemed much too delighted by that fact. “Is that supposed to mean something in particular to me?”
“A woman, any woman, highborn, servant—or challenge loser—must defer to warriors, especially to the warrior who protects her, whom she must also obey. Until your service ends and you are again a claimable woman, I must give you my protection; thus will you obey me in all things.”
For a moment Tedra was too furious for words. Then she shot to her feet, snarling, “Like farden hell! That’s what you said about claimed women. Are you telling me every woman on your planet is claimed?”
“I know not the customs in every country,” he said as he also got to his feet. “But in Kan-is-Tra, very few women are claimed, since they need only apply to a warrior for protection to avoid claiming. This you were told, and this they gladly do, because Kan-is-Tran women do not care to lose their rights to claiming.”
“What rights?” she demanded. “It sounds like they have none if they must still obey—Stars, how I hate that word—every warrior who snaps his fingers!”
“Defer to, woman, not obey,” he replied with a sigh. “A warrior can make no demands of a woman under another’s protection. He can request such and such of her, but she need not obey him if the request is unreaso
nable or abhorrent to her. This is her right.”
“But she does have to obey the warrior who protects her? I see no difference.”
“He who protects her cannot have of her the service you will give to me, not unless it is her wish to give such service. Is that difference enough for you, woman?”
Tedra pinkened. “It still sounds too slavish to suit me, but I didn’t come here to live, only to trade. Though I’m not forgetting that you wanted me in the ‘without rights’ group.”
He shrugged. “You could have requested my protection instead.”
“I didn’t know about it!”
“Ignorance of the law is no—”
“Don’t rub it in the ground, warrior,” Tedra snapped. “You’ve already taken more advantage of me than any other man ever has, so let’s drop it, all right? Now, are we going to stand around here all day, or what? Why don’t you get on with whatever you were doing when I showed up to brighten your day. What were you doing out here on your lonesome anyway?”
She got a very clear look of chagrin out of him, which was heartening, proving he didn’t always keep his emotions to himself. “I was hunting the taraan you killed.”
“So that’s a taraan?” she asked. “Hey, I didn’t kill it. It’s only in a deep stun, which I wish to Heaven’s Stars you ‘d been in, and stayed in.”
His only response to that was to ask, “How is it you know of a taraan but have never seen one before?”
“Because it’s one of your words that needed a picture to go along with it, but Sublims don’t supply pictures, just words.”
“Explain, woman.”
“It’s how I learned your language, with a Sublim tape. I know all the words, just not all of their meanings. Your animals, foods, things like that will give me problems until I can match them up with the words I have for them. You’d have the same problem if you were given my language.” She grinned then. “Now there’s an idea. Would you like to Transfer up to my ship to learn my language? It would only take a few hours of your time, and the culture shock would do you a world of good.”
He snorted in answer. “I will see to the taraan. You will stay where you are.”
But first he saw to her phazor unit, much to her regret, retrieving it from where he’d tossed it and hooking it on the back of his sword belt after that was also retrieved and put on. There were a few moments when he had hesitated in touching the unit that were worth a laugh or two, but Tedra managed to restrain herself. At least the barbarian wasn’t leaving the unit behind so she’d never have a chance to get it back. And she would get it back. But a fat lot of good it would do her for the next month, since she was honor-bound to accept the consequences of her challenge loss—and still looking forward to that despite the barbarian’s domineering nature.
Chapter Ten
it was an ugly, huge, shaggy-looking thing, what the barbarian called his hataar. Long-necked, longhaired, four-legged, it had a mane that fell on each side of its neck down to its spindly legs, and a tail of hair that nearly dragged on the ground. Its back, which was to be sat on, was as high as Tedra was tall. She knew it now to be an animal for riding, but the Sha-Ka’ari must have had a different name for theirs, if they had any, for hataar was not in their store of words. The Kystran Ancients had a similar animal for use as transportation, but not nearly as big and ugly, and long since extinct.
The barbarian’s hataar was black in body coat, with a white tail and mane that surprisingly showed no discoloration. It had been tied at the end of the tree line, or the beginning, depending on which direction you were coming from. Tedra had immensely enjoyed walking through those low-limbed, lovely green trees, savoring the smell of verdant earth and growing things. All vegetation had died on Kystran during the Great Water Shortage, which had led to the invention of solaray baths. By that time all Kystran food was being grown on the space stations or imported from other worlds, and wood had long since become inferior as a building material, so the loss of greenery on the planet hadn’t been considered a serious catastrophe or an urgent problem to solve. And when the scientists had got around to solving it, the land was extremely desertlike, good only for being paved or built on. A Kystran park consisted of a great expanse of brown solidite paving, dotted with gigantic metal sculptures of trees and plants, a far cry from what she was seeing today.
The barbarian had carried the poor taraan, which was still living only because it was still in stun. He had been glad, though, that he could avoid leaving a trail of blood behind him. Tedra refrained from asking why that should matter. She’d yet to see any of the wild animals on the planet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t around.
There was a harnesslike contraption around the neck and chest of the hataar that reins were attached to, and which sported a handhold in the center to use for mounting, since the beast was saddleless and merely covered with a thin fur blanket. A long fur sack and two small rabbitlike animals hung from it on small ropes, and the barbarian tied the taraan to this as well, it being not so long that it would drag on the ground.
Tedra was definitely not looking forward to riding on that giant thing to wherever they were going, though the animal’s back was so long and wide there would be plenty of room for two or even three people to sit comfortably. But once her companion had finished securing everything, he didn’t climb aboard so they could get on their way. He turned to her instead and, after a moment of thoughtful study, reached over to finger the sleeve of her tunic.
“These still offend me, woman.”
That was all he said, but he stood there waiting, as if she were a mind reader. And maybe she was. The grin wasn’t on those chiseled lips, but Tedra knew it should have been. He’d got his way upside and down, and had gone through a good deal of trouble explaining the facts of Kan-is-Tran life to her so she’d know there could be no more refusing on her part. Either she’d have to take the offensive clothes off, or he’d likely do it for her, and she could just imagine how unpleasant that would be.
And then it occurred to her that if she shed down to nothing, the barbarian might do the same. After all, what lusty male of any culture would pass up such an opportunity? They were alone, and there was a blanket of sorts on the hataar that would spread nicely under a nearby tree. It wasn’t too farfetched to assume that some pleasant sex-sharing might improve the barbarian’s attitude somewhat. A little give-and-take on his part would certainly improve hers.
“Betcha fifty exchange tokens, warrior, that no one’s ever accused you of being flexible. But that’s all right. Single-mindedness does have its virtues. Lucky for you I know how to give in graciously.”
She flashed him a cheeky grin before slipping out of one boot and tossing it to him, then the next. Her utility belt opened with a tug, and, emboldened by the way his dark eyes were attending her every movement, she draped it around his neck, chuckling softly when his lips tightened and he dropped the belt and boots on the ground beside him. The tight neck of her tunic top was designed to give for easy removal, and within moments it joined the other items on the ground. But with the top half of her body stocking now revealed, the barbarian missed seeing her pants slide right off.
He was clearly fascinated by this undergarment that seemed painted on her, it fitted so closely. Made of glittering silver trilon, it covered her skin from the top of her breasts down to her toes, and this fascinated him even more. A tug at the top and it parted down the sides all the way to her ankles, so she only had to step out of it—and now the body stocking was forgotten.
For long, silent moments his eyes examined what the challenge had given him. Tedra became very still, her playful mood gone. No man had ever seen her like this before, and she hadn’t realized how disconcerting it would be. And it was impossible to tell what this one was thinking, if he even liked what he saw. Those intense black eyes gave no clue.
“There was more hidden beneath your warrior’s clothing than I had thought, kerima. ”
The color crept up Tedra’s chest i
nto her cheeks. She would have known he was referring to her large breasts even if he hadn’t been staring at them when he said that. Her body stocking did much to flatten that area, a necessary measure for someone in her profession who couldn’t afford a distracting bounce interfering with her job. She wished he hadn’t mentioned it. She wished even more that he would take the step that separated them and fold her into his arms to lessen the embarrassment she was now feeling at being naked while he was not.
What was he waiting for anyway? Surely not an invitation?
“This you may keep,” he said, picking up the kystral necklace that had come off with her tunic.
He came closer to carefully put the necklace over her head. He even pulled her long tail of hair out from under it, and she thought, Now he’ll kiss me. But he didn’t. He stepped back to admire the way the two strands caressed the top of her breasts, drawing the eye there, and Tedra could only stare at him in bewilderment. His restraint wasn’t normal. It went against everything she knew about men and sex-sharing; she might not have tried it yet, but she knew all there was to know about it. The barbarian had demanded sex-sharing service of her. That had to mean he wanted her, didn’t it?
Whatever it meant, Tedra had the sinking feeling she wasn’t going to find out any time soon, and her disappointment was suddenly so keen, the sarcasm just dripped from her words. “Kystrals go nicely with this outfit, don’t they?”
“Indeed.”
She glared at him. “Now isn’t the time for you to be agreeable, warrior. I didn’t strip down to stay stripped down, so give me something else—Stars, what is that?” Tedra gasped, seeing a huge white beast loping toward them through the trees. “My phazor, quick, man—give it here before we’re on tonight’s menu.”
She held out her hand for the unit, but her eyes remained glued to the beast that was getting closer by the second. With those visible fangs, she was afraid it was carnivorous, and it was nearly as big as the hataar, too big certainly for a barbarian to tangle with. The head was round with tufted ears, the body long, sleek, and short-pelted, the tail about as long as the trunk. Its paws alone were twice the size of her fists, and she had no desire to meet up with the long claws they would contain. But her hand remained empty, and she finally spared a glance at the barbarian, to find he had turned to stare at the beast, but no more than that. His hand hadn’t even approached his sword handle, let alone her unit.
[Ly-San-Ter 01] - Warrior's Woman Page 8