strongholdrising

by Lisanne Norman

  “A son?” Kaid shook his head as he returned to his seat. “Stronghold will never be the same.”

  “There used to be families there,” said Rezac. “Back in our time.”

  “And up until two generations ago,” said Kitra as Dzaka perched on the arm of her chair. “I’ve been looking into the history of the place. It was the last two Warrior Masters, particularly Ghezu, who prevented any bonded Brothers and Sisters from living there together. They were sent to one of the colony worlds until their cubs were old enough for them to return and be fostered in Dzahai village.”

  “No cubs of ours will be fostered, though,” said Dzaka, his hand closing on Kitra’s shoulder. We need to talk, he sent. Why didn’t you tell me you were expecting our cub?

  The stricken look returned to Kitra’s face. Who told you?

  You and Carrie— when I came in just now. Smile, Kitra. We’ll talk later. They have enough troubles without us adding to them.

  Dzaka looked over to Carrie. “Garras is organizing transport and accommodation for the new Brothers when they arrive,” he said.

  “Would you ask Ghyan to organize his usual Reception talk for them,” said Carrie tiredly, bending down to pick Kashini up. “Tell him the one called Dzaou needs watching. He’s got a problem with both telepaths and any non-Sholans. Why Rhyaz wants him here, I can’t fathom.”

  “He’s here because until he changes his attitude, he’s a time bomb waiting to go off,” said Kaid.

  “I’ll see to it, Liegena,” nodded Dzaka.

  “We should eat now,” said Kitra, forcing her mouth open in a smile. “The meal will spoil otherwise and Zhala will be angry.”

  *

  Kaid’s wrist comm buzzed, waking him from his light doze. It was Vanna.

  “He’ll be ready for us to move from the cryo unit in a few minutes,” she said. “It’ll be another half hour before he wakes, though.”

  “Thank you,” he said. Uncurling himself, he got to his feet, stretching all five limbs to ease the kinks out of them. Sleeping on sofas was for the young, he decided ruefully, rubbing his stiff back as he went over to the bed where Carrie lay asleep, Kashini cradled in her arms.

  Looking down at them, one part of him warmed at the sight, imagining how she’d look holding their cub. The other part shrank from the thought, afraid not only of the responsibilities of impending fatherhood, but the physical changes Carrie would have to endure while carrying their cub. He’d been afraid for her life when he’d helped Kusac birth Kashini. The pain he’d experienced— her pain, shared by both himself and Kusac through their Link with her, had been terrible. He hadn’t wanted to put her through that again. And there was Kusac. He sighed, then reached down to caress the small head resting against Carrie’s arm.

  The scene blurred, and he saw Carrie lying in his bed at his home up in the Dzahai mountains, a tiny brown-furred newborn held close against her breast.

  He blinked, and the vision was gone.

  Carrie’s eyes flickered open and she yawned. Still shaken by the vision, Kaid squatted down at the side of the bed, cupping his hand round her face.

  “Don’t pull away from me,” he said gently as she began to move. “Ever since Kusac tried to kill himself, you’ve kept your distance from me, even on our Link days.”

  “I feel responsible,” she said. “I know it doesn’t make sense but I can’t help it.”

  “You aren’t,” he said forcefully, letting his hand slip down to rest intimately against her neck. “Don’t let Kashini feel this misplaced guilt of yours. We’re a Triad, you’re carrying our cub. If you go on like this, you’ll harm not only our relationship, but Kashini’s toward me and her unborn sister.”

  She lay still, looking up at him, then nodded slowly. “I’ll try, Tallinu. It isn’t that I love you less, it’s that I feel guilty for loving you when Kusac…”

  He leaned forward, silencing her with a kiss. You have a right to be happy even while you grieve for your lost Link to Kusac, he sent. Vartra knows, I feel the same, but I won’t let it affect us, Carrie.

  Between them, Kashini woke and began to squirm, reaching out to catch hold of a lock of Kaid’s hair. As she tugged on it, he yelped, pulling back wryly as he tried to undo her strong grip. Next moment, she was crawling over his chest, mewling happily, still clinging onto his hair.

  “What do I do?” he appealed to Carrie, clutching at the cub to stop her from falling. “I know nothing about infants!”

  Carrie sat up, watching them, wishing that she could forget the guilt she felt. “You get used to it,” she said, echoing T’Chebbi’s earlier words. “I expect both my life-mates to help rear our cubs.”

  “Dzaka was four, a much more civilized age, when he came to me,” he muttered, catching hold of her hand as she reached tentatively for his cheek.

  *

  He remembered his stomach hurt, so did his throat, and he was confused. He hadn’t expected to wake at all. Familiar scents teased his nostrils: Vanna’s, Carrie, and Kaid’s. Then a mind touched his and agony surged through him. It robbed him of breath at first as his body arched upward before slamming back down on the bed.

  “Stop it, Chiuduu! Stop it now!” yelled Carrie, rushing in from the other room to stop the telepath.

  Kaid grasped her by the arm, pulling her close. “Finish it, Chiuduu,” he ordered.

  “Kaid! In Vartra’s name, that’s enough!” Vanna exclaimed.

  The telepath physician glanced at Kaid.

  “Tallinu! For God’s sake, tell him to stop! Kusac’s in agony! How can you do this to him?” demanded Carrie, struggling against him. “Stop blocking my mind, damn you!”

  Kaid locked his arms around Carrie. “Get on with it, Chiuduu,” he said harshly. “You can see how much pain he’s in. Get what we need and get out.”

  The pain came in waves, each one worse until he felt the stranger’s mind retreat, leaving him alone. A hypo spray stung his neck twice.

  As the pain began to lessen, gradually he became aware of Carrie’s presence beside him, and the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Kusac,” he heard Kaid say. “It had to be done. If not by us, then the Brotherhood and the Telepath Guild would have demanded it. We need to know what you’re keeping behind that shield, what’s causing the pain when your mind’s touched.”

  “You planned this all along, didn’t you?” said Carrie’s angry voice from beside him. “How could you do this to him? How could you not tell me?”

  “Why was I not informed that a mental scan would have this effect on Kusac?” demanded Vanna. “There was no mention of this in the data you sent me!”

  “Kaid’s right, lass,” said Jack. “He had to be mind-scanned as much for his own protection as anything. It’s like setting a broken limb, only we can’t yet anesthetize the conscious mind.”

  The Human’s voice came closer till he felt a hand grasp his shoulder briefly. “He’s done, laddie. There’ll be no more for now, you have our word. We’ve given you a psi-suppressant to make sure.”

  “You knew about this, too?” asked Carrie incredulously. “And you agreed?”

  “We had to know if the suicide attempt had been programmed into his subconscious by Chy’qui,” said Kaid.

  “And was it?” demanded Carrie.

  There was a short silence before the stranger spoke. “No. That was Kusac’s own decision.”

  The voice sounded strained, and through the last vestiges of his pain and the worry that they’d discovered what he kept locked deep in his subconscious, Kusac felt some satisfaction that like Vriuzu, this telepath had felt the same agony he’d experienced.

  Carrie’s hands withdrew from his face and neck. “I think you should all leave,” she said, her voice suddenly cold. “You’ve gotten what you wanted. Now I want to speak to my life-mate privately.”

  “Carrie,” began Kaid.

  “Leave us alone!”

  He listened to the footsteps retreating.

 
; “Carrie, don’t be too…”

  “I said privately, Jack.”

  Uneasiness filled him as he remembered just how uncompromising and angry she could be. He continued to lie still, eyes shut, waiting to see what she’d do next. He felt the bed move as she got up.

  “You can sit up now, Kusac. I know you’re not as bad as you’re letting on.”

  He uncurled cautiously. Nothing hurt this time. He managed to push himself unsteadily up into a sitting position. “How?” he asked, keeping his eyes away from her face while watching her pace the room.

  “I know you better than anyone, Kusac. Dammit, we were Linked for over a year!”

  “You’re angry,” he began.

  She came to an abrupt halt beside him. “Damned right I am! You told me how afraid you were of losing me yet what do you do? You try to kill yourself!”

  “I thought it for the best,” he said quietly, wishing this was over, that he’d succeeded.

  “Thought? You didn’t think at all! You didn’t care about anyone but yourself! You intended to leave me and Kashini alone!”

  He didn’t see the slap coming and when it landed on the side of his face, he automatically grabbed her by the arm and looked up at her in shock.

  Tears were rolling down her face as she began to cry.

  “There’s Kaid…” he began.

  “Kaid isn’t you! I need you both— I love you both! You don’t have the right to decide alone what’s best for the three of us! Why did you give up? Why leave us? We’ve faced so much together, why did you push us away?” She collapsed on the bed, leaning against him, sobbing.

  He released her wrist, tentatively reaching out to stroke her head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Carrie. I thought it would be easier for you and Kaid if I wasn’t there.” He felt a vague remorse at upsetting her.

  “When did we ever choose the easy way? We’ve always faced things together, head on. Why did you shut us out?” Her voice was muffled, distressed.

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “You don’t know what it’s like living without my Talent— not being able to feel you or your love.”

  “It’s no less real!” she said, lifting her head. “I can’t sense you, but that doesn’t affect my love for you!”

  He remained silent for a moment, knowing the reply she wanted, but unable to give it. “I don’t know what I feel right now, Carrie,” he said quietly. “Everything still seems distant, as if it isn’t happening to me. If it’ll help, I’ll give you my word I’ll not do it again.”

  She sat up, rubbing her hand across her eyes. “You’ll fight this? Let us help you and not try to shut us out?”

  He nodded slowly. “I’ll try.”

  A commotion in the distance made them look toward the door.

  “Sounds like your mother’s awake,” said Carrie, scrubbing at her face again and getting up.

  Rhyasha came flying through the door, closely pursued by Kaid. She stopped just inside the room, tail swaying anxiously beneath the hem of her short summer tabard.

  “Kusac,” she said, and her tone spoke volumes.

  “Hello, Mother,” he said tiredly, trying to force his mouth open in a smile. “You don’t need to scold me, Carrie’s already done it.”

  the Couana, Zhal-S’Asha, 19th day (October)

  Roused from his semi-doze, he heard the door behind him open. Rubbing his eyes to dispel the dream, he turned to see Banner entering the bridge carrying two sealed mugs.

  “Thought you could do with a drink,” Banner said, coming over to the command console and handing him a mug. “It’s nearly time for shift change.”

  Nodding his thanks, he accepted it, popping the lid free and pressing it onto the retainer on the bottom of the mug. He turned his attention back to his console as Banner took the comms seat in front of him.

  “What’s up, Kusac?” Banner asked, taking a sip of his own drink. “You aren’t usually so stressed out. More memories? I thought you’d gotten over them weeks ago.”

  He took a drink before replying. He supposed he owed his Second an explanation. “So did I. They started when I went back to Stronghold,” he said, cradling the mug in both hands. “It’s as if I’m reliving everything again.”

  Banner shifted in his seat. “Is it anything to do with what Toueesut, Annuur, and whatzzis name did?”

  He looked up. Now was not the time to tell him. Later, perhaps, when he had a better understanding of what they’d done, and his suspicions were proved one way or the other. “Kzizysus. No more than usual,” he said with forced lightness. “I’m tired of being pushed in front of every medical expert who thinks they’ve found a cure.” He took another mouthful, finding the drink suddenly bland and tasteless.

  “Can’t be easy,” Banner said sympathetically. “Is it helping any? Reliving the memories, I mean.”

  “Some.”

  “Understanding includes realizing that choices are limited by one’s mental and physical circumstances,” said Banner, choosing his words carefully. “Realizing that sometimes our biological programming overrides our intellect. Until you met Carrie, your life was very predictable, very controlled, either by you or your family. Captivity took that freedom you’d found with her, and the luxury of choice, away from you.”

  He raised an eye ridge. “You’ve been researching me.” There was a hard note in his voice.

  The other shrugged. “Only talking to those who know you.”

  Suddenly he was aware of his heart beating a counterpoint to the rhythmic throbbing of the Couana’s engines. “I knew Rhyaz would send a Special Operative with me,” he said softly. “I didn’t think it would be you.”

  “I’m one,” admitted Banner.

  “One?”

  “Rhyaz didn’t send me.”

  “Lijou, then.”

  Banner said nothing, merely took another drink.

  “Why two?” he asked.

  “Because Rhyaz has been unsure of you since your return from Haven. I’m here to help you.”

  He digested this for a minute as he forced himself to relax. There was no reason for Banner to lie to him. “Why tell me?” he asked abruptly.

  “So you know there’s one person on board on your side. Considering some of the crew members, I figured it was necessary to tell you.”

  He gave a snort of amusement. “You mean Dzaou. Rhyaz picked the crew himself.”

  “You didn’t think he’d make this easy, did you? I’m here to see his testing is fair.”

  “What did Lijou tell you about this mission?”

  “There was little he could tell. Only that it related to a message sent to Haven to be delivered to you.”

  He’d told no one what the message meant. Rhyaz had his own interpretation, but it was wrong. “Rhyaz thinks the message is from General Kezule. It isn’t.” As he spoke, the odors contained on the message seemed to surround him once more. The real message was in the scents, yet it seemed no one but he could read them.

  “Kezule? I thought he was safe on the Prime world.”

  “Apparently not.” He put the mug down on the side of his console and reached inside his jacket.

  “So who’s it from?”

  Taking the message out, he handed it over to Banner. “I’m not sure,” he lied, “but Kezule is involved.”

  Banner unfolded and read it, unaware of Kusac’s intense gaze. He handed it back to him. “It says very little, only that he must meet with you. Why you? Why not Kaid or Carrie?”

  “Because he knows they’re telepaths.”

  “And he knows you’re not now, therefore he sees you as no threat,” nodded the other. “I suppose it makes sense. What has he got that could be of interest to you?”

  “We’ll find out in three days,” he said, folding it up carefully and returning it to his pocket.

  “Do you need to keep it secret from the crew? Dzaou’s having a real paranoia session over this.”

  “I expect he is, but he’ll have to wait like the rest. It w
as Rhyaz who told me not to brief you until we were almost at the rendezvous. He’s the one putting pressure on the crew, not me. Thank Vartra, Father Lijou is more perceptive than Rhyaz gives him credit for.”

  “Master Rhyaz is the Warrior Leader,” murmured Banner. “A coin must always have two sides.”

  Shola, Zhal-Ghyakulla, 6th day (June)

  When Kaid and Carrie had left for the medical center, Dzaka and Kitra retired to their suite, leaving T’Chebbi in charge. As he closed the door, Dzaka turned on the psi damper.

  “Don’t be mad at me, Dzaka,” said Kitra, backing away and eyeing him warily. “It isn’t my fault.”

  “Mad? Why should I be mad at you?” he asked, surprised. “I admit it came as something of a shock, but I couldn’t be more delighted.” He shook his head, mouth opening in a pleased smile as he came toward her. “I’ve loved looking after Kashini, but to have a cub of our own! I just hadn’t thought we’d start our family so soon.”

  The moment he touched her, Kitra felt the magic of their Leska Link flow through her. Her resolve began to falter as his arms folded round her.

  “I don’t know that it’s what I want,” she murmured, returning his embrace. “Father and Mother won’t be too happy. A cub was what the Chazouns wanted from me, and you know how hard they fought that.”

  “Forget the Chazouns. Even if they didn’t accept your father’s cancellation of your betrothal, the moment you became my En’Shalla Leska, they had no claim over you,” he murmured, burying his face in her cloud of soft, blonde hair.

  “Vanna’s not sure how it happened.”

  He laughed, picking her slight form up in his arms and carrying her over to the sofa. “Maybe you need reminding,” he whispered, catching hold of her ear gently with his teeth as he set her down then crouched beside her.

  “That’s not what I mean,” she said, shivering with pleasure as he began to caress her neck. “I wasn’t compatible with you till two days after we Linked.”

  “I’m told I’m very potent,” he purred teasingly, reaching for the seals on her tabard. “Perhaps that’s what Vanna meant.” Pushing her garment aside, he ran his hands lovingly down her sides then leaned forward to cover her face with tiny bites.