by Jean Winter
Everything would be so perfect. If only she were a normal khar.
At midmeal, an impromptu discussion developed: favorite things. Foods. Colors. Books. Childhood follies. This drew out to encompass not only the meal, but the ride to Sal's, and more than one happy debate broke out over “controversial” opinions.
“How can you think the targetfish is the fiercest predator in the ocean?” Lyra demanded from beside him on the driver's bench. “They're huge, yes, but they are so slow and cumbersome, the zapray would have no problem taking it down once it got in close enough to avoid its darts.”
Kade laughed. “But the zapray's existence has still no' been scientifically confirmed. We only have fisherman's tales from those lucky enough to return from the Barrier. Fabled creatures do no' count.”
“Oh, they exist,” she asserted. “At least, something like them, for sure. Don't you think?” She stared thoughtfully off into the distance. “All that space on the other side of the planet yet to be explored. There must be hundreds, maybe even thousands, of species of animals and plants. New lands.”
“Perhaps, but there are many who believe that the continual electrical storms and squalls that keep us from passing beyond the Barrier are all that is behind that curtain anyway—that the rest o' Geniven is just one mess o' uninhabitable, roiling, tempestuous ocean.”
“But by estimates of Geniven's full size, that is thousands and thousands of square miles, my lord! There has got to be something in there.” Lyra looked back at him. “Do you think the technology to help explorers pass through the Barrier Region safely will be developed in our lifetime?”
“Anything is possible, I suppose. New technology is being developed all the time. They are calling it a grand Industrial Age. I have even heard that a small handful o' scientists at the university are experimenting with motor powered gliders. They hope to get one to lift a man off the ground, propel himself around in the air, and land again.”
Lyra's eyes grew like a child's. “You mean to really fly? Like a bird?” Then she went quiet, as if digesting all the possibilities of that statement.
With a chuckle, Kade took her hand, entwining his fingers through hers. Lyra hardly seemed to notice, and the debating and laughing continued: Which creature claims the fluffiest fur? (After his sheep, of course.)
It had never been this nice—this natural—with Ahna.
“Lyra, Lyra,” Kade murmured wistfully at the next break in conversation, and he gave her hand a squeeze. “Can you no' see how good this is—you and me?”
A moment passed. Lyra quietly studied their fingers so comfortably laced together. In a half whisper she said, “I know. I know, but my lord, I'm … I just can't—“
His light chuckle interrupted her. “Lyra, do no' worry about that now. Look, I can understand the trauma o' being dragged away from everything you have ever known and thrust into a strange culture. You have been introduced to a new way o' life and it frightens you. You are having trouble setting aside some very deep-rooted reservations and it is hard to think about embracing … new possibilities.” Kade gave her an encouraging grin. “So, I am willing to take it slow. All right?”
The expected relief and gratitude in her expression did not come. Instead, there was just confusion.
“Take it slow?” she said. In a moment, Lyra had wrested herself from his grasp and folded her hands in her lap. “… Is that what you think we have been doing the last few days? Taking it slow? You're giving me time to warm up?”
Uh … evidently he and she had not been interpreting their time together in the same way. “Well, is that no' what you need?” he said. “Time to mourn your loss? Time to get to know me? Time to grow comfortable with the idea o'—”
“No, my lord,” she suddenly snapped. “No, you don't get it, do you?.” Her jaw clenched. Her eyes swirled with turmoil. Then she calmed some as she got her thoughts together. “My lord, I am sorry if you think you have been getting signals from me, but please understand that if … if you are waiting for me to 'come around,' you will be waiting until the day I die.”
Henna's bosom! She was going fatalistic on him. “Lyra, you canno' really mean that.”
“My lord, I do not believe in having friendships with 'favors.' The sacred act of procreation between a man and a woman is to be saved until they are lawfully wed.”
“But that is what we are, Lyra!” Kade almost laughed. “Legally joined! Why can you no' understand that?”
“Because this is not a union of freedom, or of choice … or love.” She grew quieter. Pensive. “I cannot recognize it.”
What the Mother …? Kade stared at her. “Lyra, I canno' do anything about your freedom. I thought you knew that. I can only offer you the best home possible—which is what I have been trying to do! And as for love,” he waved an arm in annoyance, “in the last week I have betrayed my country, put the good name o' my family in jeopardy, and lied to my mother and best friend! All for you! Surely that must count for something.” Sullen, his eyes went back to watching the road and driving Whinnee along. “It is astounding to me, madam, the gall you have to ask so much.”
When her voice came again, it was so soft Kade almost couldn't hear her. “I never asked for any of those things. None of it. Remember? You gave those out of the kindness of your heart. I am well aware of the great burden you have shouldered because of me and that is why I have been trying so hard to earn my keep, and to please you.”
Kade huffed bitterly. “In every way but one.”
“My lord can have me at any time,” Lyra whispered carefully back.
Kade's glance at her was withering; he could handle another wood chopping session about now. “So, what you are saying is, I must either marry you or rape you.”
It was several seconds before she answered, “My lord, I hold my virtue sacred—”
“Just shut it, Lyra,” he snapped. “I have heard enough.”
The drive continued and Kade grew more bitter with every passing minute of silence.
How could she do this to him? After all he had done for her? She may have never asked for anything verbally, but she was asking, nonetheless. She was asking every time she looked at him with those pleading, tender eyes. Every time she inquired of his intentions. Oh, she was, indeed, asking.
And he had given in—every time. Bloody whor'! He was such a pushover.
The extent of her brainwashing ran deeper than Kade had expected. She was just so adamant about this chastity thing—so close-minded—it was maddening! He gritted his teeth. If he was still hoping to win her over, it was going to be a lot longer and harder road than he had originally anticipated. He had guaranteed her the rest of the week, but Kade wasn't sure now if he could keep dealing with all of her baggage that long.
Sal's home loomed.
He wasn't even sure if he could finish out the day. “Well, Sister,” he muttered, “any guidelines for me before we go inside? You must have a list or something o' 'forbidden' behaviors and I do no' wish to offend your virtue any longer. ”
Lyra stared resolutely ahead. “My lord, I am most certain you will not like to hear it.”
Kade brought the wagon to a halt. He jumped down and raised a stiff hand to help her. “On the contrary, please enlighten me. I am only a corrupt, heathen Stranger, after all.”
His hand was taken grudgingly and her glare shot razor shards of ice as she determined whether or not to answer. With raised eyebrows Kade squared himself before her. And waited.
“Very well,” she said. “We are counseled that any behavior or touch of a sexually arousing nature is inappropriate.”
Kade snorted. “If men followed that rule they would no' be touching women at all, much less dancing with them.” He gripped her arm roughly as he led her toward the house. “Come to think o' it, we might just have to forbid ourselves from looking at you, too.”
“It is not that bad,” she hissed, to which he responded with a short, dark laugh.
“Evidently you do no' know me
n as well as you think you do, my dear.” If they were going to successfully complete another act for Sal, he was going to have to gain control of himself. And quickly. They had already reached the top step of the veranda.
“You are taking it all wrong,” she accused. “I knew I shouldn't have said anything.”
The front door opened and Kade threw on a smile.
She is driving me absolutely CRAZY!
# # #
He is driving me absolutely crazy!
Lyra's smile as the butler showed them in was plastered to her face.
“Ah, two o' my most favorite people in the world: my best mate and my new, favorite entertainer! Welcome!” said Mejhisk. Evidently, today's theme color was red, for that was the color of his ensemble. All of it. Blood red—minus the stark white vest peeking out at his front.
“I am flattered at the revered appointment to your trophy shelf, my lord,” Lyra said while Mejhisk offered a peck on her check, “but, if you ever ask me to do that again, I will screech funeral dirges at the top of my lungs until you beg me to stop.”
Mejhisk was nothing but delighted by her response. “Still full o' fire, Lovely Lyra. Good. That is what you need for today's lesson.”
He led the way to his ballroom, making small talk with J'Kor about the many heartfelt compliments that had been coming his way regarding his invigorating party.
Lyra's thoughts, meanwhile, were on other things.
… crude, scheming, arrogant, presuming oaf!! I should have known all this niceness was just a design to get under my skirt. He thinks he is so charming and handsome that, despite what I have said in no uncertain terms, I won't be able to resist him! Well, he is in for a great disappointment because the only way he will ever have me is with the sure knowledge of my loathing him for it …
The ten foot, copper inlaid, double doors were swung open and Maryn came into sight, already there, waiting for them. She was dressed as much for the activity as Mejhisk and Lyra suddenly felt frumpy in her much plainer, everyday frock. However, she was greeted by Maryn warmly with a friendly smile and kiss to the cheek.
“'Na Lyra, I am so happy you were able to come again today. I very much enjoyed getting to know you.”
Lyra's own feelings were expressed likewise and without any further ado, the dance lesson began. She was swept into Mejhisk's arms first while Maryn took J'Kor off to the side for their own work. The sweet khar moved beautifully, a picture of elegance and obvious skill, and Lyra perceived that that may very well have been the major factor in Mejhisk's decision to buy her.
Mejhisk, as a teacher, had high standards for movement and flow. He showed no inhibitions in taking her by the hips to show her how to move them, or lining himself against her back to direct her arms and posture. But, the man was also all business when it came to teaching his favorite pastime—besides hunting—and soon, Lyra was able to rid herself of her initial, embarrassed stiffness.
Whenever she and J'Kor happened to meet eyes, he would swiftly divert his attention back to his dance partner and work even harder. Lyra found herself retaliating in much the same way. She wasn't about to let him show her up so he could keep complaining about her too innocent, prudish ways. As a result, when Mejhisk was satisfied to let the two of them try it together, the khar and lord's gazes locked, and their approach of each other was like two charged wires. The battle began.
J'Kor's hot hands raised her to starting position, and Lyra smiled coyly. His smoldering gaze stripped her down to nakedness, and she thrust herself at him with suggestive fervor. Neither would yield. Neither would shrink from the other, and the routine progressed with an almost feverish gusto. Bend. Sweep. Step. Twirl. Hold. Lunge. Change grip. …
After about twenty minutes, and with a swearing to the blessed goddess of the stars and all her court, Mejhisk abruptly brought them to an end. J'Kor was clutching Lyra's leg as he held her against him, their eyes opposing each other, their breathing labored, noses nearly touching. But neither budged. Neither conceded. In fact, seconds passed and J'Kor's hold on her leg only grew tighter while Lyra's fingers dug harder into his shoulder.
“I said break, mate,” Mejhisk repeated, eyeing them curiously. He went to the buffet for a glass of water.
J'Kor finally let her down and followed after, leaving Lyra to wipe the sweat from her brow with a sleeve and gratefully gulp down the glass of water Maryn offered. Then the suggestion came that Maryn take Lyra to check on her pasties in the baking room.
Lyra could not follow Maryn out the door fast enough.
# # #
Sal motioned for Kade to head with him to his office. They would relax there.
Kade was soon stretching out in a leather armchair while Sal went round to his minibar and mixed a light cocktail. He handed it to Kade. “Trouble in paradise, mate?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
A snort of incredulity ripped the air. “I am talking about the iron rigidity between you and Lovely out there.”
“We were just concentrating,” Kade told him. “And I am a little stiff. Been chopping a lot o' wood the last few days.”
“Uh huh.” Sal wasn't buying it for a second. He took a seat on the edge of his desk, his own drink in hand. “Yeah. I know sexual tension when I see it, brother, and yours has reached cosmic proportions.”
Kade's glass went to his lap and he sighed. “Sal, please leave it alone. I am handling it.”
“Aye, I can see the way you are handling it. She has you wrapped so tightly around her pretty little finger, you have forgotten that, despite her many charms, in the end, Lyra is only a khar.”
If his best friend only knew! But as it was, Kade had to let Sal's assessment stand and didn't answer.
Predictably, Sal took that as his cue. “It is important that you do no' forget that tiny, little detail,” he counseled. “I fear you are too invested in her. Care to tell me what the particular trouble is?”
“No.”
“Brother,” Sal cajoled, “if you canno' tell your best friend your problems, who can you tell? I am hurt by your lack o' confidence in me.”
“Mate, I am sorry, but if I thought this was something you could help me with, I would have come to you already. I really would. Just let it go.”
Sal couldn't. “Did she tell you she was pregnant?”
“No.” Kade chuckled bitterly, raising his drink to his lips.
“Another lover?”
“No.”
“Are you having, you know … problems?”
“Definitely no'.” Kade rose, stretching his sore shoulder, done with Sal's little guessing game. He went for the door.
“Well, she is, at least, performing her duties to you.”
His involuntary pause was slight. But it was enough.
“By the claw!” Sal breathed, thoroughly enthused with finally getting somewhere. “And you are letting her?”
Kade was already past the door. “Not listening, Sal.”
“So, how long has this been going on? Two? Three days?”
Kade kept walking as Sal's mirthful croon echoed through the hallway. Then footsteps were following.
“Brother, wait!”
“What?”
“Tell me this has no' been going on for more than a few days,” Sal said, his forehead creased in concern as he caught up to him.
Blast it all. He should have just turned the wagon around and taken her back home when things went sour. Kade was vaguely aware of his fists balling up at his sides as he stood, undecided how to answer.
“Henna's bosom,” Sal breathed in wonder. “The party? When I wired you? Was that all an act?”
“Sal … there are things you do no' understand about her—”
“Bloody whorlocks, Kade! You at least consummated your joining! Right?”
Bloody zeth', it was out. He couldn't pretend anymore. Sal stared at him in absolute shock and Kade collected his will to say quietly, “Look, mate, no one can know about this.”
Sal's mouth shut. Then it opened again. “But what in the world has that woman been doing to ward you off all this time?” He grinned. “Sexual tension, indeed! I think we need to revisit those drinks in my office. Right this way.”
In a huff and glaring, Kade returned to the office. This visit was turning out to be a disaster.
Going back to the bar, Sal chortled, “I think you could use something a little stronger,” and he started mixing a glass whose contents packed a little more of a punch. Kade went, brooding, back to the chair, and Sal was soon handing him his new drink. “I must say, until today, you had me fooled.” Fortunately, he didn't sound hurt, just surprised. A perk of being Sal. “But I canno' fathom why in the world you are letting her hold out on you.”
“Sorry, brother. You can understand my wanting to keep this situation under wraps.”
“Fearful, is she? Reluctant? Because o' her past rough handling?” Kade didn't answer and Sal sat lightly in a chair opposite. With a rather philosophical air, he suddenly intoned, “Because you know, I have learned that khars are like powerful, finely-tuned machines. Once you know a little about all their parts and pieces, all it takes is a tweak in the right spot, and you can really make them purr. For instance, a nice hot bath followed by a massage—”
“No' in this case,” Kade retorted, putting a stop to the “creative” simile. “She does no' want to be a khar, Sal. She was forced into it.” He stopped there. He didn't want Sal implicated in this mess.
“Forced? How could any woman no' feel lucky to be joined with a lovesick, overly-considerate, schmaltzy sap like you?”
“Uh, thank you,” was Kade's sardonic murmur at the questionable description of himself.
“But no matter,” Sal said, not listening. “In the end it does no' matter how she got into your bed—legally, it is a done deal. What matters is how she feels about it the next morning.”