Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  Instantly Kusac realized that Carrie had been right. What he was seeing was a projection of Kaid’s memories from his captivity and torture in these rooms.

  “I want those codes, Kaid, and I want them now.”

  The voice was faint and he had to strain to hear it.

  “You’ve had my answer. Go rot in hell, Ghezu.”

  Kaid’s voice seemed to come simultaneously from the person in front of him and the hazy image he was projecting. The anger and hate in the air, Kusac could have cut with a knife. He shuddered, unable to look away as he watched Kaid reliving the memory.

  Ghezu’s moves were almost too quick for his eye to follow. A flash of silver followed by the sound of the knife thudding into wood, then the room reeked of the metallic scent of freshly spilled blood. The ghostly Kaid yowled and began to collapse, but Ghezu reached out to grab him by the hair, hauling him upright again.

  “I told you it was real this time, Kaid. I will have those codes from you if I have to destroy you an inch at a time. Now, are you ready to talk yet, or shall I start on the next finger?”

  Kusac felt his friend’s fear fill the room, his soul-deep terror of being maimed seeping out to touch even him. Death was nothing compared to this, it was life Kaid feared. Transfixed, Kusac could do nothing as he experienced the other’s agony, and his fierce determination not to betray his friends. In front of him, Kaid’s shoulders began to slump and his ears disappeared from sight.

  “Hold him up,” the ghost-Ghezu ordered, pulling the knife out of the wood and flicking the severed finger to the floor.

  Zhaya obeyed, wrapping one arm around Kaid’s chest while continuing to hold his wrists down on the table with his other hand.

  “The codes,” Ghezu repeated. “I want the codes, Kaid.”

  Kaid’s chin was still lolling against his chest. Ghezu leaned forward. “I can’t hear you, Kaid. You aren’t going to lose your voice because of a little pain, are you?”

  “Go screw yourself,” came the faint reply.

  Ghezu pulled back and once more his knife flashed down, this time landing on Kaid’s hand with a dull cracking sound.

  Instinctively, Kusac winced as the ghostly Kaid jerked violently in Zhaya’s grasp, letting out another but weaker yowl of pain before collapsing against his captor. Gods, he knew what Ghezu had done to Kaid, but to actually see it!

  The scene wavered slightly, then steadied. As it did, Kusac realized that the miasma of fear was being pushed slowly back. He knew then what Kaid was doing.

  Ghezu grasped Kaid by the hair again, pulling his head back so he could see him. “What are the codes, Kaid? All you have to do is give them to me and all this will stop. Tell me the codes.”

  His face furrowed with pain, ears invisible against his skull, Kaid’s voice was barely audible. “Never.” Then his eyes flickered, and he began to slump lower within Zhaya’s grasp.

  In front of him, his friend staggered slightly as the images finally began to fade. As Kusac ran forward to help him, he caught a last glimpse of Ghezu angrily landing two more blows with his knife pommel on the unconscious Kaid’s hand.

  “Kaid, in the God’s name, let me help you,” he said, grabbing him firmly round the waist. Kaid resisted when Kusac tried to turn him toward the door.

  “No,” he said. “I need to sit for a moment.” He began walking toward the wooden chair that stood facing the desk. “I should have known it was impossible to keep you away,” he said. “I felt the crystal warming. You shouldn’t have come. I didn’t mean for you to see this.”

  “It wasn’t Carrie,” said Kusac, fetching the other chair and sitting down opposite him. “It was me. I woke and found you gone.”

  “You contacted her, though.” The tone was resigned.

  “I needed to find you before you did anything …” He stopped.

  Kaid’s mouth opened in a slow smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and destroy the temple again. You were right. It was a stupid thing to do.”

  “Being a telepath leaves you exposed to emotions, both your own and those of the people around you. You’re learning to cope with your feelings again,” said Kusac. “I know how difficult it is because after Carrie and I Linked, I had to learn a different way of coping with the violence within me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did you know you were projecting that memory?” Kusac asked.

  “I had to see it from outside of myself, to understand what happened to me. I needed to face the fear again, and control it.” The last was said quietly.

  “You did.” Again Kusac shuddered. “Anyone would have been afraid of that, Kaid. I don’t think I could have held out as long as you did.”

  Tiredly, Kaid stood up. “If you want to be a sword-brother, you’ll have to be that strong. It’s part of the price. Anyway, I found out what I needed to know. That memory won’t trouble me again.” He turned away and walked slowly toward the door, stopping to look back at Kusac. “Are you coming? I don’t know about you, but I want some coffee and something to eat.”

  “What did you need to find out?” asked Kusac, hurriedly getting to his feet.

  Kaid gave him an amused look before he switched out the light. “Work it out for yourself. It’s good training. When you know, come and tell me.”

  Chapter 7

  L’Seuli sat on the edge of the work counter, watching her as she looked through the viewing window at the Valtegan. There was a rapt look on her face as she followed his every movement.

  “They’re about to feed him,” he said, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to watch.”

  She turned to look at him, her gray eyes giving nothing away. “I need to know the worst, don’t I? How bad can it be? He’s got lousy table manners, so what?”

  L’Seuli pulled a pack of stim twigs from the pocket of his robe and offered her one. She hesitated, then, as he nodded and held it out closer to her, she accepted. As she turned back to the window, he said quietly, “He kills his own food—eats it raw, Keeza, for the fresh blood.”

  Her head flicked back to face him, a flash of fear in her eyes, then she turned away again. The feeding cage was opened from behind and a chiddoe thrust into it. It squeaked frantically, trying to claw its way back into the other room away from the scent of the alien predator.

  Kezule walked over to the cage, standing in front of it, blocking their view. As he reached into the cage and pulled it out, the terrified squeals of the chiddoe rose in volume to be cut off abruptly as he snapped its neck. L’Seuli noticed her flinch.

  Turning, the Valtegan made his way to the table and began meticulously to skin and gut the carcass. He took care to ensure that no blood was spilled before dismembering it.

  She watched it all with a terrible fascination—he could feel it, disgusting and attracting her at the same time.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He’s a general, was in charge of a hatchery, guarding some of the wives of his Emperor.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently the Emperor’s young need to be hatched on the world on which they’ll live. After laying their clutch, the females were to be shipped home and Kezule was to remain here with the young males and a small group of new females to start a new hatchery for them.”

  “What kind of general is he?”

  “Ground Forces as far as we can gather.”

  “From that Human world, Keiss, was he?”

  “Yes. Keiss,” he said. There was no need for her to know more than was necessary.

  “What else?”

  “We don’t know that much about him, Keeza,” he said. “That’s why I picked you for this mission. You’ve gotten close to a pack leader, you can get close to him.”

  Her laugh sent a shiver down his spine. “Yeah, sure. He’s likely to be really interested in me as a female.”

  “Several Human females have done what you’re about to do, Keeza—spied on the Valtegans by getting close to them sexually. It’s up to you how you achieve
that closeness, but they are sexually compatible with both the Humans and us.”

  “You mean up to him,” she muttered, watching as Kezule’s forked tongue flicked across his claws and fingers, licking off the blood that was seeping onto them from the piece of raw chiddoe in his hands.

  “Khaimoe said you did very well at her House,” he said gently. “You learned many things with her, not all of them of a sexual nature. If you wish to avoid a physical relationship with him, then use what you’ve learned.”

  Abruptly she turned away from the window. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s get this over with. Take me to your mind-warpers. The sooner I’m done with this place, the better.”

  L’Seuli stood up and went over to the door, waiting for her to join him. “You haven’t forgotten that we have to erase all memory of this from your mind before we send you in with him?”

  “I haven’t forgotten. Just you make damned sure that when it’s over, I get my memories back!”

  He reached out to take her by the chin, looking into her eyes as he spoke. “You have my word on it, Keeza Lassah. Your memories will be returned to you when this is over.” He let her go and palmed the lock.

  “I don’t want any memories of this,” she said hurriedly, indicating the cell on the other side of the viewing screen. “That I want to forget. And the pack time. Can they do that?”

  “Yes, if that’s what you wish,” he said, accompanying her out into the corridor. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the room opposite. “The telepath who will do this is no ordinary one, no state-provided reprogrammer like you would have faced at the correction facility.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she said.

  As they entered the medical examination room, the two figures silhouetted against the window broke off their conversation and turned toward them.

  “We’re ready now, Master Konis, Master Lijou,” said L’Seuli, taking Keeza over to the easy chairs.

  The room felt empty now that he’d had left for the estate. He’d been angry that someone had persuaded Kusac to ask to become his sword-brother. Whoever it was knew him too well: he couldn’t have turned him down flat, not Kusac. He remembered when he’d first seen him. All fierce determination to defend his Leska, yet terrified to the core of his being of what they were, what they might become. Now, he held his estate, and his Clan, on his own merit.

  But could a telepath, even if he could fight, make a sword-brother? He stopped the thought there with a self-derisory smile. What was he when it came down to it? Had he made a good sword-brother to Garras? He must have, else Garras wouldn’t have stayed with him all those years. Only the need for him to run the family business till his nephew came of age had broken their partnership. Their oath still existed, after a fashion: it was what Garras had used to get him to come out to the Khalossa.

  There had been no repercussions regarding the damage he’d caused in the temple—no disciplinary action beyond being confined to his quarters under guard until Kusac had arrived. His constant presence, except on his Link days with Carrie, was Lijou and Rhyaz’s guarantee that nothing of the sort would happen again.

  Now that he was alone again, however fleetingly, he’d had time to reflect. He realized now what his fear and anger had almost cost him. It was time he made amends.

  Sighing, he got up and padded over to the drawer unit to fetch a clean robe. As he put it on, he realized that the purple banding of the Priesthood had been added to it by housekeeping. The law required him to always wear purple now that he was a recognized telepath, but at least this way he could follow its spirit if not its letter and keep his identity as a full telepath hidden. Fastening the belt, he left his room and made his way to Lijou’s office.

  Knocking on the door, he waited. After a moment or two, Yaszho, Lijou’s aide, answered, joining him in the corridor.

  “It’s Brother Tallinu, Master Lijou.”

  “Five minutes, Yaszho,” came Lijou’s voice. “I need this finished first.”

  Yaszho looked apologetically at him before closing the door and heading off on some errand.

  “Just remember what you’ve always said about Kaid. You don’t control someone like him; you point him in the right direction and let go,” said Kha’Qwa.

  “I know, but he has to realize that he’s no longer responsible only to himself. He’s been outcast for nearly eleven years now.”

  “Not so. He’s been liegeman to Kusac for going on a year.”

  Lijou made an exasperated noise.

  “He has, and now he’s training Kusac as a sword-brother,” said Kha’Qwa. “If they take the oath, then they’re answerable to each other in a way that transcends other oaths.”

  “Is it enough? What he tried to do to the temple was …”

  “Utterly reprehensible, but understandable, given the circumstances. I’d say the fact he’s here to see you means he recognizes your authority,” said Kha’Qwa, getting to her feet.

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’m going. Don’t keep him waiting any longer,” she said, leaning over to rub her cheek against his in an affectionate gesture.

  Their Link day over, Kusac had only just left for Stronghold as T’Chebbi arrived home. “Kaid says to start training now,” she said, accompanying Carrie into the villa.

  “Now? But I’ve two weeks yet before I go to the Warriors Guild!”

  “Plenty time. You be where you were before Challenge by then. Physician Vanna says all right. Told me what you mustn’t do.”

  Carrie stopped to eye her consideringly. “And what if I prefer to wait?”

  T’Chebbi shrugged. “Your decision, but Human males at Warrior Guild will get what they expect.”

  “Just what d’you mean by that?” Carrie demanded, stung by her words.

  “They expect a Terran female,” said T’Chebbi, eyes widening slightly. “Kaid said you go there as you were, you get respect quickly. If not, have to earn it. Take longer.”

  “Kaid’s saying a helluva lot for someone who isn’t here,” she muttered, angry that he’d chosen an incentive he knew she’d respond to. “Did he happen to say anything else?” She hoped he’d sent her a personal message.

  “No, Clan Leader,” murmured T’Chebbi, looking away.

  Carrie started walking toward the stairs, annoyed that her question had been so obvious to the Sister. “You can cut that out for a start,” she replied sharply. “Call me Carrie like everyone else does. What’re we practicing?”

  “Three things. Sword skills, firearms, and beginning to build stamina. Last one we go more slowly with,” said T’Chebbi, remaining at the bottom of the stairs. “You change into practice clothes, then we go to training hall where Garras working with younglings.”

  It was back to basics, with the mind-numbing but necessary patterns of defense and attack moves using the heavy wooden practice swords. That night, a soak in a hot herbal bath went a long way to easing her aches and pains. Every movement, no matter how small, hurt, and she discovered muscles she’d forgotten existed.

  She groaned as she hobbled down to the lower level of the den. “I’d no idea I was so unfit.”

  “Not unfit. Your body being a mother, not a warrior, is all,” T’Chebbi contradicted her.

  As she collapsed carefully onto the larger settee, Carrie grimaced up at her. “I hope you aren’t just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Is true,” the Sholan female confirmed, clasping her hands behind her back. “Joints loosen off, muscles become less firm—needs to for you to give birth.”

  “Hmm. Well, I’m not moving till after third meal when I go up to see Kashini,” Carrie said, making herself comfortable with the cushions. Then she sensed T’Chebbi’s diffidence and sighed. “What is it you don’t want to tell me? What have you got planned for this evening?”

  “Brought comp program back from Stronghold. Teaches tactics by simulating battles. You see consequences of decisions. Garras coming over to help us.”

  “
And just when am I going to have time with my daughter?” she demanded. “It’s bad enough her father not being here without her seeing very little of me as well!”

  T’Chebbi’s ears flicked back in embarrassment, then righted themselves. “You must be able to cope alone in field if you get separated from rest of us. Kusac learning same things.”

  “If I’m separated from Kusac for too long, then we’ll both be too ill to do anything!” she countered. “Three days, including our Link day, that’s all the safety margin we have, T’Chebbi, then nothing but getting us together will save our lives.”

  “These skills may help you rejoin him before that happens. Even more important for you than others.” Her tone was determined.

  Carrie sighed. She was right, but it seemed so unfair that all her time was being taken up this way when she wanted to be with her cub. Yes, she’d been getting a little bored with the inactivity, but to go from that to this so suddenly!

  “Very well, but I want half an hour with my daughter after we’ve eaten.”

  “Is fine,” agreed T’Chebbi, turning to leave.

  “T’Chebbi, aren’t you staying to eat with me? I thought the idea was you’d be a companion for me as well as a teacher.” As the other female hesitated, obviously undecided, Carrie realized what she’d done wrong. “I’d like your company, T’Chebbi. Please join me.”

  T’Chebbi’s mouth opened slightly in a faint smile and, lifting a fold of her heavy woolen robe, she stepped down to the lower level to join her.

  The Sholan officers stood between Kezule and the light, unconsciously shielding him from its glare while they talked quietly. He let his head drop and forced his muscles to relax: the pain induced by tensing them was almost as severe as that caused by their beating. He strained to hear what they were saying, but it proved useless as the language they were speaking was one he didn’t know.