strongholdrising

by Lisanne Norman

  “It does nothing but warn,” said Annuur, dipping toward him the crest of stiff hair that grew from between his ears to his shoulders. “Wear it or take it off as you wish. Ignore it also. It does nothing to you but inform.”

  He nodded, reassured by the serious looks on their faces. As he released it, he became aware of a faint sound and turned his head trying to locate the source.

  “Is harmonics,” said Toueesut quietly. “The sound you are hearing is our concern. Knowing we both are of the punishment collars and what they did to you. Soon you will recognize a different sound for each emotion around you, and each species.”

  “I don’t know that I’m going to be comfortable with this,” he said, folding his ears down instinctively even though he knew it wouldn’t stop the sound.

  “Removed can be that function if you wish,” said Annuur. “Try for a week first. Is new, takes getting used to.”

  “Is like the mind-music we hear all the time,” added Toueesut.

  “Does every species have this mind-music?” he asked.

  “Every one but not all are harmonious, just as not all individuals are. Some are dark and you wish them far from you so you need not be listening to their dissonance.”

  Annuur dropped down onto all fours, crouching low to the ground, his crest of hair now lying flat. “Go now you must. Tiring this was. Time to rest.”

  He felt Kaid’s hand close round his arm.

  “We need to be off, too,” Kaid said. “Thank you for your help.”

  He slid off the stool. “Thank you both. I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Shola, Nezule Estate, Zhal-Vartra, 15th day (July)

  THEY were directed to the landing area outside the Warrior Clan’s large training center. Waiting to greet them was Rhayfso, Guild Master of the Warriors and Clan Leader Naraan.

  “Well come to our estate, Clan Leaders Kusac and Kaid,” said Naraan, holding his hand out in greeting. “Your people arrived here yesterday. They’re out on the exercise field with our charges.” He gestured to two attendants to pick up their luggage. “Your belongings will be taken to your quarters.”

  He accepted, finding his forearm grasped just beyond his bonding bracelet: he returned the gesture, repeating it with Master Rhayfso.

  “Good to see you again,” said Rhayfso as they began to walk toward the entrance. “Sensible decision of yours to get involved with our guests, Kusac. If you don’t pick yourself up and get back into the saddle immediately after falling off a riding beast, you lose your confidence. Though I heard that you did meet with some decent Primes on their ship as soon as they discovered what was happening.”

  “The Valtegan physician was pleasant enough,” he said, trying not to focus on the change in the sound he heard in his head.

  “I thought you only met the one Valtegan— that priest.” Rhayfso glanced sideways at him.

  “It’s not as easy for us to see them as two distinct species, Master Rhayfso,” said Kaid. “You have to appreciate that our experience of the Primes were as beings in armored encounter suits who kept us confined as if we were captives.”

  “Well, we got a Prime or two here with their Valtegan hatchlings,” grunted the Master. “There’s no confusing the two, take my word for it!”

  They passed through the high double doors into an entry hall dominated by a wide staircase. The shade and coolness was welcome after the heat outside.

  “Oh? Who’s here?” asked Kaid as they followed Naraan toward the archway leading out to an open courtyard.

  “Prince Zsurtul and his Companion as well as some Court Adviser.”

  “The prince is here?” asked Kaid, surprised.

  “Seems he and his father want him to be given the same training as the hatchlings,” said Naraan. “They’ve bee~ here a couple of days now, and we’ve been keeping them busy learning team games till your people arrived.” He looked at Kaid as they stepped out into the large grassy training area. “I don’t know where they’ve kept these younglings till now, but they’ve no idea of how to mix with other people, let alone each other.”

  “They’re a competitive species,” murmured Kaid, looking over at the group of thirty or so youths running after a large ball that was being passed from person to person. The three paler-skinned Primes stood out starkly even amid their own kind. “Has there been any trouble between them and our people?” he asked as they stopped to watch.

  “None. Observing them today has reminded me of my own sons when they were no more than kitlings. They were damned curious about everything!”

  “The fact we were furred caused them great interest,” said Naraan. “They kept wanting to touch and stroke the students assigned to look after them.”

  “Probably measuring us up for floor coverings,” muttered Kusac, watching to see how the others would react to his comment. At this distance, leaving aside the green skin, they resembled Humans too closely for his peace of mind.

  Naraan looked shocked while Rhaysfo laughed and slapped him jovially on the back. “Good to see you’ve not lost your sense of humor,” he said. “You’ll be wanting to join your people. I’ll let you get on with it.”

  They walked over the earth track that circled the exercise field and headed across the sun-bleached grass to the group of Primes.

  “Prince Zsurtul was responsible for freeing us,” said Kaid quietly. “Remember that when you meet him.”

  He looked sideways at Kaid. “You escaped, he didn’t free you.”

  “He had persuaded the Commander to release us that day and was coming to escort us to the Profit when we escaped,” replied Kaid, coming to a halt. “He was also responsible for Carrie being returned to us, and you being discovered. We owe him a lot, Kusac. Try to be open-minded when you meet him.”

  “You don’t ask a lot, do you?” he murmured.

  A command rang out and the game suddenly stopped. Confusion ensued for several minutes, with more raised voices as the hatchlings ran about every which way before finally assembling in a ragged line in front of four black-clad Sholans. Off to one side they could now see a lone Prime standing watching.

  Kaid sighed. “Well, it’s a start I suppose.”

  “Brother Kaid, Brother Kusac,” said Khy, leaving the lineup to step forward and salute them.

  “At ease,” said Kaid, touching his clenched right fist to his left shoulder in return.

  Kusac did the same.

  “Initial assessment?” Kaid asked.

  “They’re like nothing I’ve ever come across before,” said Khy, standing easy. “We reckon they’ve been kept segregated from the rest of their society. They’re like playful kitlings exploring the world for the first time. Friendly, curious, willing to cooperate. I can’t believe this is their specialized Warrior caste.”

  “What are you feeding them?” asked Kusac. “Raw meat?”

  “No. We were told they’d be easier to handle on a cooked diet. Can it really make all that difference to them?”

  “It can,” said Kusac, stepping past him to look at the line of twenty-one young alien males dressed like Humans in summer shirts and shorts, and wearing soft protective footwear. He shuddered and turned back to look at Kaid and Khy. “They ate raw meat on Keiss.”

  Kaid nodded. “Anything else?”

  “They’re fast, unbelievably fast,” Khy said. “Both at learning and moving. And almost as strong as us, though they’re not fully grown yet.”

  “Have they had their medicals yet?” asked Kaid.

  Khy jerked an ear in the direction of the lone adult Prime. “That one, Seniormost Aide J’kuqui, won’t allow it,” he said quietly. “Says they’re here to be trained, not medically examined, even when we told him why we needed medical data on them.”

  “Then I suggest we talk to Prince Zsurtul about it,” said Kaid, strolling over to where the other three Brothers stood in front of the young Primes.

  Kusac stood his ground, watching. Being in their presence
, smelling their scents, made his skin crawl. With their pallid green skins they reminded him of the Valtegans he and Carrie had met on Keiss. Against his neck, his torc began to vibrate gently. His anger peaked briefly, making the warning vibration rise to the level of discomfort before it died down. Why was he behaving like the Valtegans, letting hate and fear dominate his rational mind? Was he no better than them?

  He took a minute or two to calm his thoughts, then slowly walked over to join Kaid.

  His sword-brother was talking to one of the young ones— one with a skin the color of the sand— and an adult male of the same coloring.

  “You forget that you’re my aide, J’kuqui,” the sand-colored one was saying calmly. “I’ve told you what to do.”

  “Enlightened One,” began the other, but Kaid cut him short.

  “You’ve been given your orders, J’kuqui,” he said crisply. “Don’t presume to question your Prince in front of these trainees. You weaken his authority. Get those medicals set up for this afternoon.”

  Stiffly inclining his head, the aide left.

  “Thank you, Kaid,” said Zsurtul, casting a curious look at him. “I wasn’t aware of the problem.”

  “Still treating you like a kitling,” said Kaid.

  Zsurtul grinned. “Hatchling,” he said. “And yes.”

  Kaid gestured to the others. “Back in line, Zsurtul. The hard work starts now.”

  Zsurtul opened his mouth, then hesitated before saying, “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s the Emperor’s son?” Kusac asked Kaid. “He’s not like any Valtegan I’ve seen before.”

  “He’s a Prime,” said Kaid. “Rezac and Zashou were responsible for making many of the next generation of Valtegans sterile. They had to use what breeding stock they had to survive. Many of them have drones in their ancestry.”

  “I thought the drones were infertile by definition.”

  “They were hatched that way by adjusting the temperature of their eggs,” said Kaid. “The others, they’re from M’zullian stock like those you met on Keiss.”

  “Paler,” he said. “And nothing like the temperament of those on Keiss.”

  “Now you’re beginning to see for yourself the differences I spoke about.”

  He grunted noncommittally as they strolled over to stand in front of their new recruits.

  Stronghold, Zhal-Vartra, 17th day (July)

  Sighing, Lijou began to stir on his meditation mat. This was the fifth night in a row he’d come here hoping to find Vartra in His realm, but each time, he’d found the door with its carved triple spiral closed. The braziers flickered, casting giant shadows across the pillars and ceiling high above him. A faint sound, accompanied by the scent of nung blossom, drew his attention and he froze, looking round the temple. He could sense no one, but that meant nothing these days. As for the scent, five days ago, nung blossoms had been placed in vases on the floor at each corner of Vartra’s tomb.

  Looking around, he saw nothing but the flickering of his own shadow and the flames from the braziers. He thought he caught sight of a slight movement by the statue of the God and looked there again, holding his breath, afraid he’d been right. He stared at it for perhaps two minutes before allowing himself to relax. Then he saw the reflected light from the crystal eyes of the God blink out and reappear.

  Anger rose in him, lifting his hair, and beneath the long black robe, the pelt across his shoulders and back began to rise. Why should he allow himself to be intimidated like this every time the God decided to call on him?

  “Don’t play with me, Vartra,” he said quietly. “I know you’re there. I tried to reach you again, but I didn’t know the date in your time I was there.”

  A mist seemed to form around the statue, blurring its outlines. Then it was as if the statue stood up and stepped off the dais to walk toward him, shrinking in size as it advanced until it was the height of a normal male.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to lose your fear, Lijou,” Vartra said, stopping in front of him. “Fear can paralyze the mind, make thinking impossible.”

  Lijou, heart beating wildly, looked up at Him. He was dressed as was the statue, in a tunic of gray, the sword harness crossing His chest, held in by the broad leather belt that circled His waist.

  “Why did you tell me to come to you when you knew I couldn’t possibly do it?”

  Vartra’s mouth widened slightly in an almost Human smile. “To make you indignant,” He said softly as He reached down and took hold of Lijou’s arm. “Come, show me this tomb of mine. I want to see if they carried out my wishes.”

  Lijou stumbled as he was drawn to his feet, but the Entity’s hand was there, supporting him.

  He was left holding onto a pillar as Vartra slowly paced around the sarcophagus before coming to a stop in front of the panel showing the first Triads and Guilds. He ran his hand across the carvings, stopping just below where His image stood amid the first Triads.

  A faint click echoed round the temple and, curious, Lijou stepped forward just in time to see a small drawer slide slowly out of the side of the sarcophagus.

  “Ah, they did well.” There was a purr of pleasure underlying His voice as he picked up the book that had been concealed within. A touch on the drawer, and it slid slowly back into the sarcophagus.

  Lijou reached out to run his own fingers across the carving, trying to find the outline of the concealed compartment but he could feel nothing.

  “You need to know what to look for,” said Vartra. “In this light you can clearly see the crystals, They’re arranged in groups of three.”

  “I see them,” said Lijou.

  “Look closer. Find the Brotherhood sigil.”

  Lijou bent down, running his fingers slowly around the area circumscribed by the three crystals until at last he found the symbol concealed among the grass and rocks beneath the feet of the figures. He pressed it and once more heard the click as the drawer began to open.

  “There are several of them,” said Vartra as the drawer slid shut again. “Each one contains something that may be of use to you. Look for them only when you have a need.”

  Lijou nodded. “The book. What’s in it?”

  “This contains our knowledge of the Valtegans, their weaknesses and strengths. Before the Cataclysm, several were taken prisoner and brought here for study— and experimentation. We had to find out how to read their minds, how our telepaths could influence them from a distance without exposing themselves to the risk of capture. We were fighting for our survival, we couldn’t afford to be ethical.”

  “La’quo. Did You know about its effect on them?” demanded Lijou.

  Vartra held out the book. “What we discovered is in there,” He said. “Don’t view us too harshly for what we did, we’ve already been judged. Instead, give it to those it can help in your fight against the Valtegans.”

  Lijou took the slim volume from Him, clutching it tightly against his chest as the Entity turned away from him and reached out to touch His tomb again.

  Silently the heavy lid began to pivot to one side, exposing the body lying within. Vartra remained motionless until Lijou, easing the stiffness in his limbs, drew His attention back to the here and now. He turned away, looking again at the priest. “The Brotherhood needs to take part of Me with it to Haven,” He said. “Then I can walk realms that no Entity of Shola has ever traveled.”

  Lijou shut his eyes briefly, shuddering at the thought.

  “You, and only you, must remove My head and have it concealed within the Shrine on Haven.”

  Lijou moaned softly. “I knew you were going to say that.”

  When there was no reply, he opened his eyes. He was alone with the body and the open tomb.

  Valsgarth Estate, Zhal-Vartra, 18th day (July)

  Kaid was in the den reviewing the latest training reports on the gene-altered telepaths when Vanna’s call came through.

  “We’ve got a problem,” she said. “I need you here at the hospital.”


  “I thought you were on leave now,” he said. “Your cub’s due any time.”

  “I am,” she said. “I still need you here now, please.”

  “It’s not Kusac, is it?” he asked, suddenly afraid.

  “Nothing to do with him,” she replied. “We need to talk and I don’t know how secure this line is.”

  “On my way,” he said, getting up.

  *

  He passed Jeran and Giyesh sitting outside her office. Nodding to them, he rapped on Vanna’s door then went in.

  “Now maybe I’ll get some answers,” said Tirak.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Kaid, taking the seat by her desk. “I thought you were still out on the island training,” he said to the U’Churian.

  “We were, until Giyesh told me she was pregnant,” Tirak said grimly. “And by Jeran.”

  “What? That’s not…” he stopped, well aware that the same had been said about his people’s Links with the Humans.

  “She is,” said Vanna. “But that’s not the best bit. I ran some other tests. Turns out that although we’re not genetically compatible with the U’Churians, we come from the same stock, Kaid.”

  “How? How can our species possibly be related?”

  “More than related, we share some of the same DNA, way back in the early history of our species.”

  “How far back?” Kaid asked, trying to take in the enormity of her findings.

  “Several thousand years.”

  Kaid focused on the more immediate problem. “I see, but we’re not capable of mating and bearing each other’s cubs?”

  “No. This isn’t a natural conception.”

  “Have you asked them how it happened?” He looked back at Tirak.

  “Repeatedly,” growled Tirak. “They won’t tell us.”

  “Could anyone here have helped them?”

  “Only me and I didn’t do it,” said Vanna.

  “What about your medics?” he said to Tirak. “Could they do it? Could Mrowbay?”

  “No. Your medical science is more advanced than ours. Learning from you is part of our trade deals.”