by Kym Dillon
In the solitude of the quarters, Stella stretched out on the bed. What in the world came next? The time was nearing to implement her scheme. While it was in the planning stages, she’d wondered if she would have the guts to go through with it. Now, she wondered if she would have the heart.
8
The Righel moved swiftly and quietly enough that the only indication that they had made landfall was a slight shimmying of the cabin. Just when Stella was wondering what had happened, Zan opened the door to the quarters.
“Come on,” he said, throwing a fur-lined cape over her shoulders. “It's time.”
Stella was startled not only that that they arrived on the planet in what looked like the middle of the night, but that there were also no crew members to see them off as she and Zan walked through the airlock into the darkness outside.
The first thing that Stella learned about Ferex was that it was bitingly cold. A cutting wind swept through her, and she pulled the cloak a little closer around her. They had landed in a forested area, and after a few moments, the clouds scudded away from the moon. The moon was full, and the light from it spilled down to illuminate a cloaked hooded figure standing in the trees.
“Come,” Zan said simply, and she fell into step alongside him.
The figure stood stone still until they came closer, and Stella watched as it wrapped its arms around its body, as if warding off the frigid air.
When they were almost close enough to touch one another, Zan halted, and to Stella's shock, he swept a deep and respectful bow to the figure.
“Great Aunt, I have returned,” he said, and the figure stepped forward, sweeping her hood back from her face.
The older woman was nearly as tall as Zan, meaning that she towered over Stella, but she also appeared old and frail. She was so thin that it seemed as if a stiff breeze might blow her away, and Stella attributed the tremble in the woman’s hands to age and not cold.
“Can it truly be you, Zan? Oh my darling boy...”
The old woman stumbled forward, and she might have fallen on the ground if Zan had not caught her. Stella watched as the fierce raider gently gathered his great aunt into his arms, holding her as she wept.
The woman's tears lasted only a few moments, and she pushed back from Zan, wiping her eyes.
“And who is this that you have brought back with you?” she asked, bright eyes glinting copper in the dark. “Who is this, young one?”
Zan straightened with a pride that Stella had never seen him possess before.
“This is Stella, my upra-sa,” he said, and the old woman gasped
“By the Ancestors, come, come, and let me look at you...”
Stella, almost shyly, stepped forward into the light, and the old woman's bony fingers touched her face, turning her this way and that. This close, Stella was also able to study the old woman's face clearly, see every seam and wrinkle on her purple skin. At some point, the woman must have suffered a tremendous blow. A white scar ran from the outer corner of her right eye down to her chin and rose a quarter inch up from her face.
When Zan had told her about the family friend who had gotten him off planet at the age of twelve, she had imagined they would now be around middle age at most, strong and capable. In no way had she imagined this ancient, frail woman doing everything she could to make sure that the child she cared about lived long enough to get off of a world that wanted to see him dead.
“You are the one that saved Zan,” she whispered.
“I did,” she replied, just as quietly. “Otherwise, he would have died with my niece, her husband, all his cousins...”
Stella shivered. It had been a slaughter. The wiping out of almost an entire family line. So much had been taken from Zan. Even if he was successful in recovering his title and rightful position, would it be enough to satisfy his need for vengeance?
“Thank you,” Stella whispered, and the old woman dragged her into a hug.
“You must call me Anneke,” she said. “I am sure that we will get on famously.”
Zan shot her a curious look at her as Anneke led them to her stronghold in the forest.
“What did you two say to each other?” he asked, but Stella merely shrugged.
Anneke lived in a small house in the forest. To Stella's eyes, it looked more than a little like the witch's cottage from Hansel and Gretel, but once she got inside, it turned out to be just as much a technological marvel as the Righel in some ways. There was a communication center which must have been what she had been using to stay in contact with Zan. There were also a number of electronic entertainments, and a strange flat refrigerator with racks of preserved meals lined up for the opening.
Anneke fed them well, and then said that she had to sleep if she was going to be worth anything in the morning. She showed them a small room that held little more than a bed, and then she turned to Zan.
“You will need to be up at first light to contact whatever allies we can muster for you. While you do that, I will see to your upra-sa, yes?”
“Yes,” Zan said with a slight smile. “Thank you, Great Aunt. I am forever in your debt.”
Then she was gone, leaving them alone. Both of them glanced at the large bed, and then at each other.
“Well, I'm not going to be the one to turn an old woman out of her room,” Stella declared, and she stripped down to her undergarments. When she had done that, she realized there were no extra clothes to change into here. She peeked over her shoulder at Zan who was busy removing his armor. He looked at her, and the expression in his eyes was inscrutable.
“Go ahead and lie down,” he said finally. “You needn't be afraid that I am going to assault you.”
“I'm not afraid of that,” she said, and then stopped. No, she wasn't afraid of him hurting her, she was more afraid of her own doubtful control. If she gave in to her instincts at the moment, she would be all over the man. Again.
Finally, she decided that she was too tired to play ‘maiden of virtue’ and desperately needed sleep.
“I'm sleeping here,” she said finally. “You can sleep here too, or wherever.”
Stella shut her eyes resolutely, and after a long moment, Zan crawled in next to her with a sigh. She supposed that she had some idea of the both of them clinging to their separate corners of the bed, but instead, Zan tugged her so that she was snugged up against him.
“Just this,” he said, his voice thick. “Just this, right now.”
She felt herself slowly and silently relax into him, melting against his bulk. At odd moments, Stella remembered that he was her kidnapper, and she tried to stiffen her resolve to push him away, then the warmth of their bodies together would prove too lovely to leave, and she remained cocooned in his masculine warmth.
When should she put her plan into action? Tomorrow morning? Now? She drifted off thinking of the right words.
In the morning, Stella woke up alone. There was a cold morning light streaming into the room, but the side of the bed next to her was empty. She rose quizzically from her rest, pulled on her clothing and ventured into the kitchen.
Anneke was there, bustling over a pot that smelled mouthwateringly delicious. When she heard Stella behind her, she turned.
“Ah, good morning,” she grinned. “Come, eat. Zan woke early and hunted for us...”
“Oh... that's good,” Stella said vaguely, wondering how long she slept.
She took a small earthenware bowl from Anneke and sat down to something that tasted a great deal like a very good chicken stew. The meal was fortifying and soothing, and while she ate, she waylaid her worries. Right now, all she had to think about was filling her belly with the food in front of her. She ate, and as she did, she listened to Anneke twittering about how good it was to have her nephew back, how things would be all right now. Stella felt genuinely happy for the woman to have her nephew home after all these years. She had lost almost as much as Zan had on that fateful night his parents were killed.
Just when Stella was finishing the l
ast spoonful, the door opened, and Zan himself walked back in. He wore the armor as he had yesterday, and there was a large feathered animal under his arm.
“Oh grellex,” said Anneke in pleasure. “I've not roasted grellex since your father was…” Her words tapered off.
“I was thinking you might like it to put away for the deep winter,” he said with a smile. “I remember mother saying it smoked well. Stella, if you are done, may I have a word?”
“Of course.” She was suddenly nervous. Now was the time, if ever there was one.
Zan waited patiently as she swept the heavy fur-lined cloak over her body again, and then she followed him into the crisp morning headed for the forest.
There had been a freeze the night before. The ground was hard and littered with millions of ice crystals, above them, a soft tinkling of icy branches chimed as the wind blew through the trees. It was a gorgeous, if chilly, sight, and Stella felt a brief stab of regret that she would not be able to see more of the alien planet.
“Where are we going?” she asked finally, and Zan shook his head.
“You'll see when we get there.”
It was an unsatisfactory answer, but she followed along behind him. There was something quiet, almost subdued about him today, and more than once she had to restrain the impulse to reach forward and to take his hand in hers. It was ridiculous to think that she wanted to comfort this huge, powerful warrior, but right this moment, she couldn't get the idea out of her mind.
They walked for almost half an hour, and then, unexpectedly, they came to a break in the trees. The structure in front of them looked somewhat like a medieval castle, though one that was constructed out of what at first glance resembled opaque black glass.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice hushed, as they walked in the gaping gate.
“The seat of Clan Mordra,” Zan said, his voice distant. “This is where it all happened, where it all began.”
This time, she did take his hand, and she walked a little closer as he led her through the deserted castle. She looked around in awe imagining the bustle of people through the halls and courtyard. It seemed almost offensive that this place should be so deserted.
Zan squeezed her hand in his, and she got the clear impression that he was grateful for her presence.
“This is home. Or it was. Here, come see this...”
When he opened a set of double doors, Stella gasped.
The great hall revealed was exquisite. It was empty but enormous, a long room of dark stone that was roofed entirely in blue tinted glass. At the very end of the hall was a dais, and on that dais was perched what could only be a throne. Almost as if they shared the same thought, Zan and Stella walked towards the throne, hand in hand.
“An upra sits here in judgment over his people,” Zan said quietly. “He rules as best he can, providing for them, protecting them and advancing their cause.”
“And where does the upra-sa sit?” she asked, and he pointed towards the rear of the dais. It was a bench rather than a throne, but it was well-padded and elegantly adorned. An image struck her of herself seated there, listening as Zan listened, and sometimes, he would turn his head to ask her what she thought.
As she stood on the lowest step of the dais, Zan took his seat on the throne. It was his by right, and when she saw him there, she could not deny that he certainly looked like he belonged in this place. It looked natural to him, his large frame filling the throne ably.
It's time to tell him, she thought, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he spoke first.
“I am taking you back to Earth,” he said softly.
“What?” The word was a dead stone falling from her lips.
“If I could let you go this minute... but I can't. If you will come to the opening ceremonies, if you will stand by my side and say the words that Anneke will teach you... I will let you go.”
“You said you needed an upra-sa,” she said, confused, and he smiled a little.
“I need an upra-sa to enter the council. Once I have their attention, I will be able to do what needs to be done. I can challenge the head of Clan En. After that...”
For the first time, Zan broke their gaze, looking down, almost lost.
“I had thought that perhaps things might go differently. I wished for them to. Yes, it would make things easier with the clans to have an upra-sa, to be sure. Not to mention how much I want... well, no matter, your words have made your position clear to me. Perhaps at some point I will thank you for that. Right now, though, perhaps you should be grateful that you have made me feel guilty enough that I must let you go.” He smiled sadly.
Stella shook her head, stunned.
“I was preparing to blackmail you,” she said, and Zan looked at her startled.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I told you I would put on the clothes, get you as far as I could, and then unless you decided to let me go home, I would pitch a fit. I would scream and cry, or maybe I would seduce one of the other clan heads or maybe I would act like such an idiot there was no way they would believe that I was a legitimate upra-sa...”
“Sabotage and blackmail,” Zan said, almost admiring. “I’m impressed.”
“And instead you give me this.” Stella shook her head. “You are full of surprises.”
Zan smiled a little, and in that moment, in the cool blue light of the room, Stella felt the last of the chains on heart loosen and fall away. Suddenly, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving him alone here, looking out over this lonely hall. Half on impulse, she stepped down to the floor in front of him and looked up at him.
“Tell me, when a member of your clan comes to make a case, how does he do it? What’s the procedure?”
Zan raised an eyebrow at her, and if he was confused as to what she was doing, he didn't show it.
“He, or she, would stand where you do, and would ask to approach.”
Stella cleared her throat, her heart beating faster. She wanted to give him a respite from all this quiet, all this dim memory, and she could think of only one easy way to do that. Perhaps she was once again doing something foolish, but it was suddenly so important to her to see Zan smile at least one genuine, happy smile, before…
“My upra,” she said, curtsying deeply. “May I approach?”
“You may,” Zan said, bemused, and step by step, she mounted the dais to greet him. She thought he would tell her when to stop, but he didn't. When she halted, he was just a few inches away. If she reached forward, she could touch him, but she held herself back for the moment.
“I have a request,” she said, and she waited, her eyes on his.
“Speak it.” His voice held a rumble of need, something dark and powerful and yearning. In the back of her mind, she realized that he had wanted her from the very beginning. Nothing had ever changed that, and now, she had the feeling that if she were not leaving, nothing ever would.
“I want you to take me,” she whispered. “Here, now. I don't want this place to only be a harbor of sorrowful memories for you.”
Zan was still for such a long moment that she thought she really had mortally offended him. She started to stutter over an apology and then with only a deep growl, he lifted her up off the ground. She cried out, her hands finding his shoulders to steady herself, but then he settled her so that she was seated straddling his thighs. Her dress rucked up around her hips, and underneath her, she could feel the flex of his armor. Over it all, however, she was aware of his heat and the power of his body. This man was power incarnate.
“If you ask me again, I will not stop,” Zan said, a warning tone in his voice. “I will be unable to.”
Stella smiled, and with one hand, she brushed his deep purple hair away from his brow. God, but he was handsome.
“Then I’m asking again. I want you. Please, Zan, take me...”
Before she finished the sentence, his body shifted under hers, and he pulled her close, crushing her in the no-holds-barred embrace that she had
longed for since their first kiss aboard the Righel. His tongue snaked into her mouth as if he had to claim her, and when she might have shifted, he fisted his hand in her loose, dark hair, holding her still.
“By the Ancestors, I have never met a woman that could take me to my knees, but you do, sky above, you do,” he growled.
He scooped one hand under her rear, moving her forward so that he was pressed against her needy core. To Stella's frustration, she could feel nothing of Zan's own flesh, only the cool armor that was rapidly warming to her body.
“I need you,” she whimpered. “Please... my upra...”
The shudder that went through his body told her all she needed to know. This man needed her as much as she needed him, perhaps more, and there was no stopping him from taking her with abandon.
His mouth moved from hers, trailing down her neck, and to her collarbone causing her warm cloak to fall away. The rush of cold air felt bracing, shocking but not off-putting.
“I will have you,” Zan growled, and then she was pushed back, standing as he rose in front of her like a volcano.
She reached for him again, but then he was pushing her forward so that she was facing the throne. A hard push to her shoulders bent her forward, and she was supporting herself with her hands on the throne's arms.
“Zan, what are you...”
“Mine,” he growled. “Mine. No matter what comes, right this moment you are completely mine.”
Stella shivered in the intensity of his words, but no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't summon up an ounce of fear at Zan's words. Instead, they simply filled her with a warmth and passion that she had never felt before.
There was a faint clatter as he undid some of the latches on his armor, and then she shivered as he reached down for the hem of her dress, flipping up the fabric and her undergarment at once. She moaned softly as the cold hair swept up her calves, her thighs and her bare buttocks. She could imagine how she looked, bare from the waist down her most delicate parts exposed to the cold blue light of the throne room.