LINDSEY Johanna - Heart of Warrior

by Heart of Warrior (lit)

  “Why not just tell him?”

  “Weren’t you listening when I mentioned that he doesn’t like spaceships? The less he has to personally deal with the ship, the better.

  “Will I get to explore this ship?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Brittany could have thought of one major reason why not. If their ship was as big as it was being represented by them, then the size of the studio that had created this illusion would have to be mammoth to show her all of it. It would be much easier to restrict her to just a few rooms. Of course, when she got around to asking for that tour, they would probably come up with excuses to not allow it.

  “Alone?”

  Martha chuckled at that addition. “Doll, there’s no such thing as being alone on a ship controlled by me. There are visual monitors in every single room that can’t be turned off if I don’t want them turned off.”

  “What about broken? Smashed? Demolished?”

  “Are we getting hot under the collar? You could try, but they’re made of unbreakable material. And why does that upset you?”

  “Maybe I’m used to the concept of privacy?” Brittany growled. “Maybe I don’t like the fact that there will always be eyes on me.”

  “I’m not intrusive, Brittany. I view when I need to view, I don’t view just for the hell of it.”

  “I’m not Impressed by that hurt‑feelings tone. If you’re a computer, you don’t have feelings.”

  Another chuckle. ” ‘Course not, but you don’t think I’m a computer, remember?”

  Before Brittany’s blush got really bright, the door to the lift slid silently open. Dalden turned toward her immediately. So did Jorran. It was a circular room in the middle of which was another circular room enclosed by see‑through walls. Those curved, seamless walls extended from floor to ceiling. As Martha had mentioned, there were no doors, no openings of any kind. There had to be a trapdoor in the floor, though, that she just couldn’t see, because their only way in or out, called Transfer, was stretching the limits of even their imagination, much less hers.

  “Why is she here?” Dalden wanted to know.

  “Shanelle took her to the Rec Room, where she thought you’d be, then abandoned her there when she got emotional again over what she assumed happened to Tedra on her return home. Nothing we haven’t seen her do a dozen times since parting from Tedra, but you know how your sister is, and how poorly she deals with that subject.”

  “Why is she here?” Dalden repeated, showing that barbarians could be single‑minded, too.

  “Didn’t care for my subtle warning about what you can expect to be grilled about later? Forgetting that the Rec Room is where your good buddies prefer to hang out? Brittany got intimidated.”

  The blush that Brittany had gotten under control immediately returned. And Dalden’s expression softened now as he put an

  arm around her and said, “You need have no fear of Kan‑is‑tran warriors.

  “I wasn’t afraid,” she insisted. “Martha embellishes. I was merely uncomfortable. And she said you were playing the ambassador here. I wanted to see how one plays at being an ambassador.”

  He made a face now. “As you say, she embellishes. I have not the diplomacy needed for such a role. But I am capable of turning down Jorran’s demands and making sure he understands why.”

  “Satisfaction in saying no?”

  “Indeed.”

  “I suppose he’s demanding that you let him go?” Brittany guessed.

  Dalden shook his head. “He understands we are returning him to Century III and that he will be contained here for the journey. He has no difficulty accepting that as the consequence of losing the fight with me. But he remembers that a meditech fully healed him after his fight with my sister’s lifemate, Falon. He demands that we heal him.”

  She was surprised. “You aren’t going to?”

  “We have decided that he is to have no more treatment than his own world would be capable of giving him, which is next to none. They have not yet progressed to the age of science or medicine.”

  She wasn’t sure she understood that reasoning‑‑‑and then it occurred to her that she didn’t need to. She realized they hadn’t just been telling her things. Telling was easy. They’d also been enacting their story, following their own scripts, and Jorran had been a major acting part.

  He was one of them, of course. They’d actually had her believing what those rods could do, when in fact they did nothing, had been used on other members of the project who had merely pretended they’d been hypnotized. The mayor? His secretary? Either tricked into going along with the pretense or really hypnotized ahead of time. Jorran had just been their “reason” for coming here. So he a to be a continuing part of the script.

  The damage done to him? Faked, of course, but damn, they sure did a good job of faking. His nose really did look crooked above the cloth he was holding below it to stem the fake blood. His broken arm was hanging rather limp at his side. He stood lopsided, to keep the weight off his supposedly broken kneecap.

  Impressed, Brittany remarked casually, “You know, if I really thought Jorran was injured, rather than pretending to be, I’d tell you it’s cruel to make him suffer like that when he could be mended. “

  Dalden frowned, but Martha chose to answer this time. “The man deserves some suffering. He’s a member of the ruling family of his world. All they’re going to do when we take him home is slap his wrist and tell him to not get caught next time. But even if he hadn’t tried to take over your world, he’s still on our endangered species list because he deliberately tried to kin Tedra’s son-in‑law so he could hook up with her daughter, for the sole purpose of taking over their world. He’s never suffered any consequences for his merciless actions. Someone needs to show him that the way he does things just isn’t acceptable to the rest of the universe.

  “Why isn’t he reacting to what you just said?” Brittany asked curiously.

  “He didn’t hear it. I turned off the communication speaker when you entered.”

  “Turn it back on. I’d like to hear what he has to say.”

  “You’re too emotional to stomach it, doll. Make up your mind. You’re either going to believe he’s for real, in which case you have to believe everything else, or you’re not. And if you’re not, then what’s it matter what he has to say?”

  Touch&. “Is he in pain?”

  “No. Even medieval worlds have figured out painkillers of one kind or another, and he’ll be given regulated doses in the air he’s breathing for as long as needed. We’re not out to torture him, merely to teach him a lesson, and even that will only be temporary.”

  “Why only temporary?”

  “His bones will mend by the time he gets home, they just won’t mend perfectly, so he’ll probably leave us with a slight limp and not liking his pretty new nose job. But I have little doubt that he win find himself a meditech eventually that will put him back together perfectly. Even if he never leaves home again, his planet gets a lot of off‑world tourists fascinated with their old‑world culture, and most modern ships come equipped with a meditech or two.”

  Brittany stared at Jorran through the see‑through wall. He was staring back at her, an abject appeal in his eyes. He wanted her to help him, was willing it, trying to play on her sympathies. He was a good actor, really good, was well‑suited for the role of villain. He’d get no help from her, though, either way. Real or not, her only concern was whether Dalden could be cruel. He wasn’t, though; he was just trying to administer some justice that he felt wouldn’t be forthcoming from any other quarter. The logical path, something the good guys might do.

  She tipped an imaginary hat to Jorran, turned to Dalden with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the finale. When do we leave for Sha‑Ka’an?”

  Chapter Thirty‑five

  THEY DID LEAVE FOR SHA‑KA’AN. AT LEAST, THEY WANTED her to believe that. The announcement had been made. Everyone had heard it.

  Brittany had been in Dal
den’s quarters when she heard it, staring out the long bank of windows. Those windows had shown her water before. When she had returned to Dalden’s quarters, they were filled with black space and stars. After the announcement, some of those stars began to move. An amazing depiction of a ship moving swiftly through space‑or an elongated computer screen giving that illusion.

  So much to think about, way too much. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It was depressing her. Even though she didn’t really believe she was leaving Earth, she was somehow experiencing, the same feelings as if it were so. And it wasn’t the same as leaving home for the first time. She might not get back to Kansas to see the folks very often since she moved out, but she could just hop in her car and go anytime she felt like it. There was security in having that choice. No such choice here.

  The door slid quietly open behind her. She heard it, Just didn’t turn to see if it was Dalden or not. The depression that had settled in as soon as she was alone, was weighing her down. Too many emotions, doubts, fears, and so much of it centered on him.

  He stood in front of her. He looked concerned, probably because she was on the verge of tears and looked it. Was he for real? How could he be? A barbarian from another world just wasn’t acceptable. But did he believe it? As they could make her forget, could they make him have memories that weren’t real, a whole lifetime of memories inserted in his mind to make him think he was other than what he was? She really wanted to believe that, rather than he was just another actor in this “play.”

  “So you are not as accepting as you claimed you would be?” he said.

  “I know this isn’t real,” she replied tonelessly. “You say it is. One of us doesn’t have our facts straight.”

  His hands came to her shoulders, pulled her close enough so they were just touching. She had to tilt her head back now to still meet his gaze. Those lovely amber eyes were filled with sadness.

  “I cannot make it all go away for you,” he told her. “I would not want to. That would mean giving you up, and I will never do that.”

  “You mean Martha’s means of making people forget what has passed?”

  “Yes.

  “No, I wouldn’t want that either.” She laid her head on his chest, wrapped her arms tight around him. “But it’s occurred to me that to accept this is to accept that I’ll never see my family again. Can you understand why that thought is abhorrent to me?”

  “Certainly, yet is it in error? Your star system is farther than most from mine, yet is it still reachable. You will see your family again if that is your wish.”

  She looked up at him again. “You mean that?”

  “I am not breaking your ties with all that you know, merely loosening them for now,” he replied. “You have a new family. You have me.”

  He was doing it again, amazing her at how easily he could adjust her emotions. He was reputed to have none, but he sure knew how to mold hers. A few words and half the burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

  It wasn’t the first time. Actually, it seemed to be a constant with him. The way he looked at her, touched her as if he cherished her above all things, said Just what she needed to hear … it was no wonder she fell for him so hard and so fast. He might not love her, might not even be capable of it, but he sure knew how to make her feel loved. And every time he did, he bound her heart more firmly to his.

  Was it by design? Deliberate? Part of the plan? Brittany shoved those doubts away, savoring the relief he just gave her. She hugged him tighter, thanking him without words. He might be too good to be true, but he was one fantasy she could live with for the rest of her days.

  “You’re amazing.”

  “It pleases me that you think so.”

  “Don’t get conceited,” she said as she leaned back to grin at him. “I didn’t say you were perfect. Close, but no cigar.”

  His hands continued to caress her in a gentle, soothing manner, rather than sexual. Was he still worried that she was falling apart at the seams? Or was he keeping Martha’s “practice hands‑off” warning in mind? She really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  “What else‑pleases you?” she tested, trying not to sound sexy, merely curious.

  But that easily, his golden eyes filled with heat, and that quickly, he was kissing her. Martha wasn’t always right. As a stress reliever, Dalden’s lovemaking beat a massager, even their unique one, hands down. just his kisses alone could do that, and for the simple reason that as usual, all thoughts, worries, fears, flew right out of her mind the moment his lips touched hers.

  He lifted her, carried her to the bed, positioned her carefully on top of him as he laid back on it, so she wouldn’t be distracted by any adjusting it did. As if anything could distract her just then. He took her into that realm of ecstasy again, so new to her, yet already addicting. His heat surrounded her, the strength of his passion thrilled her.

  His lovemaking was all the answer she’d needed, yet he still said awhile later, “It pleases me when you want me. It pleases me to hold you close to my heart. Everything about you, woman, pleases me. And it pleases me most to know that you are mine.”

  Tears came to her eyes. “Did I say you weren’t perfect? You can have that cigar now.”

  He laughed, gathered her close. If she was dreaming, she really didn’t want to wake up.

  Chapter Thirty‑six

  IF BRITTANY DIDN’T HAVE SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF EACH and every day, she could almost think she’d slept through most of that trip, time flew by so quickly. She’d marked the days to begin with, but after two weeks and then a month passed, she had to give up the notion that they had a short time limit for convincing her. She was forced to conclude that the time involved was part of the project, to determine Just how long it would take for her to crack. She was obviously just a test subject, after all. When they got around to doing this to their real objectives, they’d want to have a good idea of a time frame for it.

  So much time spent on just her? Maybe not. The “ship” was certainly big enough that there could be dozens of others Just like her there at the same time, and they just managed to keep her from running into them.

  She had gotten that tour of the “ship” she’d asked for. And she had ended the day being even more impressed by the immense scope of this project, and the immense expense involved. Even if that lift wasn’t really taking her to different levels of the ship, was just taking her back to the same floor where walls had been changed to make her think she was seeing different rooms, it was still a mind‑boggling expense, the creation of all this. And she wondered if she was the only test subject who had yet to be convinced even partially, let alone fully.

  They never lost patience with her disbelief, never tried to double their efforts to change her thinking. She was grateful for that, because it let her enjoy her time with them. It was almost like reading a book. Once she looked at it in that light, she found it an amusing pastime, to make them flesh out their story, to ask all kinds of questions about their part of the universe.

  She learned that Dalden’s mother was a heroine on her own planet, that she was also the one to first discover Sha‑Ka’an and bring it to the attention of the rest of the universe. She knew that his planet was closed down to off‑world visitors, that anyone arriving there had to stay in the Visitors’ Center and conduct their business from there, that few exceptions were made to this rule. That wasn’t always the case, but “tourists” had caused too much trouble in the early clays of discovery, apparently, enough to make themselves unwelcome.

  She spent a lot of time with Shanelle and learned that it was Falon’s family that was ultimately responsible for ousting the visitors from their world. After his sister had been raped by one of them, they’d been ready to go to war if the planet wasn’t made off‑limits to off‑worlders. Brittany figured this was a very good excuse to not show her very much of Sha‑Ka’an, but Shanelle had assured her that exceptions got made for lifemates, that she was a Ly‑San‑Ter now and so one of them.


  From Shanelle she also learned that like her own world, each country in Sha‑Ka’an was somewhat different from the next, some with different rules and regulations, some with different philosophies, and in some the people looked different as well, though the amazing height and brawn were apparently a planet‑wide thing.

  Shanelle’s lifemate and his brother were examples of that. From a far distant town, they were black‑haired and blue‑eyed, while everyone from Dalden’s town fell into the golden to light‑brown hair and eyes category. The women from Falon’s town apparently weren’t quite as restricted, either, as they were in Sha‑Ka‑Ra, but that was one aspect of Sha‑Ka’ani life that Brittany did not want to learn about yet.

  She became friends with Shanelle. At least, the feeling was there that they were friends, even if it was all pretense on the younger girl’s part. She even became friends with Martha, amazing as that was, when she had yet to meet the real Martha, and had to wonder if she ever would. But Martha had a dry sense of humor that Brittany took to‑after she stopped allowing it to annoy her. And Martha was still her main source of information. Because she was faceless, Brittany could ask her things that she wouldn’t ask the others.

  One of those things was their differences in speech, which had confused her from the beginning. Several weeks into the journey she finally got around to asking Martha, “Why do you and Shanelle talk‑I guess normally is the word I’m looking for? While Dalden, and Jorran’s people as well, for that matter, sound foreign? If Shanelle is his sister, why doesn’t she talk like him?”

  “Dalden speaks pure Sha‑Ka’ani. What you hear is his translation of your language. The same with Jorran, who speaks pure Centurian. Shanelle and I, however, speak Kystram, and not pure Kystrani, but their Ancient dialect, which includes slang. We speak it because Tedra has a fascination with her Ancients, to include using their slang, and my main dialect is set to be identical to her preference. “

  “But why would that be different, if you’re using a translation as well?”

  “Because of the similarities that we’ve found between the Kystrani Ancients and your people. Your history has closely followed theirs, so closely that even your slang is mostly the same. So in effect my language, the one Tedra prefers, is already the same as yours in basic content, as in same meanings, same slang, even same phrases. If I tell you that you got your socks knocked off when you met Dalden, you know exactly what I mean, don’t you? A normal Sha‑Ka’ani wouldn’t have a clue, however, since they don’t have a similar phrase in their language.”