Razor's Edge Page 3
“Yet she tries to understand these … creatures,” said Zashou.
“Hey, it’s her way of coping with it,” said Davies. “I know how you feel about her, Kris, just go easy, hear me? She still has nightmares about those damned lizards pawing her. If you wouldn’t mind, Zashou, it might help if you went to her. Another female, that kind of thing. We males just can’t imagine what it was like for her.”
“I can,” said Rezac grimly. “Zashou … ?”
“I’ll go,” she said, getting to her feet. “Perhaps it might be better if she spent the night with me.”
Kris looked at Rezac. “If you wouldn’t mind, just for tonight?”
Rezac nodded briefly, keeping his personal feelings under control. Tonight only, Zashou. Do not shame me in front of these people. We are Leskas.
I know only too well what we are. Nothing has changed, Rezac. We will share the room, but not the bed, she replied as she made her way into the room where Jo had fled.
“I suggest for tonight we use the other room,” said Kris. “Tomorrow we can see if Jo is willing for us to share the larger room with her, then you two can have the smaller one. I think we should avoid leaving her alone, if possible. The Jalnian attitude toward females is archaic, to say the least, and she’s too easily mistaken for one of them.”
Chapter 1
Landing the aircar immediately in front of the Valsgarth estate house, Kaid powered down the engine then took a moment to rest his head on his forearms. Kusac’s voice from the rear of the craft roused him.
“Kaid, would you carry Kashini in for us?”
He pushed himself away from the console. He was dead tired; all he wanted to do was sleep. “Coming.” Getting up, through the side window he caught sight of the small group of people waiting impatiently outside. “You’ve got a welcoming committee.”
As he bent down to take the newborn infant from Carrie’s arms, Kusac put a restraining hand on his arm. “Kaid, everyone’s going to want to debrief us on what we saw in the Margins. I think your origin should remain your business; it should be your decision whether or not to reveal it.”
Surprised, Kaid looked at him. Kusac flicked an ear, then tightened his grip briefly on his friend’s arm before releasing him.
“I would prefer it to remain unknown,” Kaid agreed as he took the sleeping cub from Carrie.
Kusac, Carrie cradled in his arms, was the first to leave the craft. Kaid and their cub followed behind.
Rhyasha was at her son’s side instantly. “Thank Vartra you’re all safe!” she said. “We’ve been so afraid for you!” She leaned forward to touch Carrie’s cheek. “Are you all right, cub? Yes, you are: I can feel it. Kusac, let your father carry her upstairs. You look as exhausted as she is!”
Kusac looked across at his father. “I can manage, thank you,” he said, holding Carrie a little closer, ears dipping in acknowledgment of Konis’ more reserved concern.
“Let him be, Rhyasha,” Konis said. “They’re a family now. Of course he wants to carry the mother of his cub into their home! I was just the same when you gave birth to him!”
Kusac started walking up the steps, his mother still beside him as his father fell in step with Kaid.
Noni’s here, she sent. She and Vanna—exchanged opinions!
Noni? But she doesn’t travel for anyone!
She’s here nonetheless. She says not only does she want to see to the cub as Carrie requested, but that Kaid needs her attention, too.
He does. His hand was injured again.
I’ll see Noni, sent Carrie, resting her hand on her bond-mother’s arm. Rhyasha, go and look at Kashini. She’s so beautiful!
I will! Again the fleeting touch for both of them, then, with a smile, his mother went over to Kaid and her husband.
Noni was waiting for them upstairs in the lounge adjacent to their bedroom. She raised her hand in a negative gesture before either Kusac or Carrie could speak. “A lucky guess,” she said. “Not all of life is visions and portents! Now, young Human. Who do you want—me, or your physician?”
“You, Noni,” said Carrie, smiling tiredly, “but let Vanna come, too.”
“Hmpf! I hope you’re not too tired for our arguments, then,” she grumbled, following them into the bedroom. She looked over at Kaid. “You’re next, so don’t bother leaving the suite.”
At the side of the bed, a crib now stood, and it was in this that Kaid placed the still sleeping cub. From where she’d been laid on the bed, Carrie reached out to stop him from leaving. “What can I say but thank you,” she said, gently squeezing his hand.
Mumbling an appropriate reply, Kaid escaped to the lounge as quickly as he could. There he found Dzaka waiting for him. They stood looking at each other for a moment, then Kaid took hold of his son by the shoulders and pulled him close.
“Thank Vartra you’re safe,” said Dzaka as they embraced. “When I heard you were at Chezy, with Fyak and Ghezu …”
“Fyak’s dead,” said Kaid, letting him go and moving over to the nearest chair. Gratefully he sank down into it. “The tribes executed him and Vraiyou.” His voice took on a hard edge. “Ghezu I killed myself. That nightmare is over for both of us.” He closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the seat, aware now of the tension in his neck and shoulders.
“The Gods be praised,” his son said with feeling. “Do you want to sleep now or eat first?”
Kaid opened his eyes. “Eat. We could all do with food. And c’shar for me, coffee for them.”
“I’ll get it.”
“Tell Vanna that Carrie’s asked her to join them,” Kaid called out after him.
Dzaka stopped in the doorway. “Diplomatic of her. Did you hear Noni and Vanna had a heated discussion over who would treat Carrie and the cub?”
“No, I didn’t. I pity our physician.”
“Don’t.” Dzaka’s mouth opened in a grin. “Vanna held her own.”
Kaid sat back, closing his eyes again. He woke with a start a few minutes later as someone touched his knee. Still groggy, he found himself staring at a smaller version of Rhyasha. Golden-pelted like her mother, the young female’s blonde hair fell below her shoulders in a mass of unbound waves.
“You’re Kaid, Dzaka’s father, aren’t you?” she asked.
He nodded, memory beginning to return as he recognized her.
“I’m Kitra, his Companion,” she said. “We haven’t been properly introduced because last time you came back, you’d been ill. I think we should meet now, before Dzaka decides you’re too ill again.” She offered him her hand, palm uppermost.
Totally nonplussed, Kaid reached out to touch fingertips with her. “Well met, Liegena Kitra,” he said.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You don’t call my brother or Carrie by their titles,” she said. “I don’t think you should use mine either, since we’re sort of connected.”
“If that’s what you wish, Kitra,” he said, just succeeding in hiding a grin. “Is there something I can do for you?” He watched as she headed for a nearby footstool and brought it over beside his chair.
“No. I just wanted to meet you formally,” she said, settling herself on it and leaning against him. “Now I can come and talk to you whenever I want. We can get to know each other.”
Dzaka returned carrying a tray loaded with cut meats, bread, and cheese as well as a jug each of c’shar and coffee. “I see Kitra’s keeping you company,” he said, carefully placing it down on the low table beside his father.
“Yes. You should have introduced us earlier, Dzaka,” he said. “It isn’t every day my son finds a Companion.”
Dzaka frowned as he held a couple of the plates out. “But you know her! She’s Kusac’s sister.”
“You didn’t introduce her as your Companion, though,” Kaid chided him gently.
“Ah. You’re right,” he said, tail swaying slightly with embarrassment. “Sorry, Kitra.”
The door from the bedroom opened, and Kusac came through. He smell
ed the food immediately. “Is there enough for all of us?” he asked, pulling over another chair.
“For you and Kaid, yes. The Clan Leader intends to bring something more suitable up for the Liegena as soon as she’s allowed to,” replied Dzaka. “I’ve a message for you from T’Chebbi, Father. She says that General Raiban and Father Lijou wish full reports from you at the earliest possible moment. She told them that you were all suffering from exhaustion and minor injuries and that you’d need to see your physician first. She said you’d not be likely to have the reports ready before the end of the week at the earliest.”
“Vartra bless her!” said Kaid with feeling as he reached for the c’shar jug.
“She’s held everyone together since you disappeared,” said Dzaka quietly.
“A female of hidden talents,” murmured Kusac.
Kaid glanced over at him. “That’s why I chose her. T’Chebbi never pushes herself forward, but she’s a more than able member of the Brotherhood.”
“Of the En’Shalla Brothers,” Kusac reminded him. “We bought our freedom—and theirs—in the Fire Margins, Kaid.”
The riding beasts had shied away as General Kezule was brought to the tethering line: His scent scared them. It was good to know some things hadn’t changed even if the Sholans were no longer the docile slaves of his day.
While two of his captors held the beast, one of the males had mounted and then reached down for him. With his hands bound behind him, he couldn’t assist even had he wanted to. They had to thrust him up to the rider.
The beast danced unhappily from side to side, terrified at having the scent of an alien predator so close to its nostrils. He was thrown against its neck, the bony nodules on its spine pressing into his chest uncomfortably. The rider hauled on the reins, pulling its head up as the two on the ground got a better grip on the halter. Once it was still again, a rope was passed round his waist and the beast’s neck, tethering him in place.
Their leader, the one wearing the broad bracelet that controlled his slave collar, mounted one of the other waiting creatures. There were twelve of them, and all but his rider were heavily armed. They were taking no chances with him. That was his only comforting thought—that they considered him a formidable enemy even in captivity.
With a single cry of command, the group began to move. As his rider took hold of the cord binding his wrists, the beast was given its head. Once again he was flung forward against its neck, this time violently enough to wind him.
The ride was unpleasant. Bounced continually not only against the creature’s painful spine, but also from side to side, it wasn’t long before he began to feel extremely queasy. By the time they arrived at the rendezvous more than an hour later, he was in no state to make a bid for freedom even if the opportunity had presented itself.
It seemed an age before they hauled him down and he felt firm ground under his feet again. He staggered and would have fallen had he not stumbled into one of the tribe’s males. The sudden strong alien scent was the last straw, and as he was grabbed by the wrists and hauled upright, he began to retch. Doubling over, he was unable to stop his stomach from expelling its contents all over the sand.
“What’s wrong with him?” he heard a voice demand. “Is he ill?”
“He’s not used to land beasts,” came the laughing reply as, still retching, he was thrust forward.
“When he’s done, Lieutenant, give him some water and take him to the medical unit. They’re expecting him.”
“Aye, General Raiban.”
Now rid of what little had been in it, his stomach spasms began to ease, and he was able to straighten up. Still shaking, he was temporarily beyond embarrassment. His bonds were cut and he slowly pulled his arms round in front of him. Then metal cuffs were snapped on his wrists. A canteen was handed to him. He could smell the water and took it gratefully.
“Does he understand Sholan?”
“Oh, yes,” was the reply. “He spoke to Fyak. He was Kezule!”
“So you’re the god, are you?”
He drank deeply, already feeling better, before even looking at the speaker. He’d recognized the scent as female. They still hadn’t learned to keep their females decently locked in the breeding room. He considered not replying, or insisting that he speak only to a male, then decided on a safer option instead.
“I only speak to Commander.” He hated their language almost as much as he hated them.
“I am the commander,” was the soft reply. “I’m General Raiban.”
He closed his eyes as the canteen was taken from him, trying to force himself not to react, not to let them see his revulsion at the presence of the female. It would be viewed by them as a weakness.
“I am General Kezule,” he admitted, opening his eyes.
“Well come to the future, General. I think you’ll find it somewhat different from the Shola you so recently left behind.” She turned away abruptly and began to walk toward one of the larger vehicles accompanied by three of the desert males.
A tug on his arm brought his attention back to his immediate situation.
“You’ve an appointment with the physician,” said the trooper, leading him toward one of the larger tents. Two armed guards followed close behind.
Here the indignities to his person started. His hands were released, and when, scenting yet another female present, he refused to remove his clothing for the medical examination, they held him and forcibly stripped him. He was dragged to a table and held there prone while they prodded and poked at him until they were satisfied he had no broken bones or internal injuries.
Released and allowed to get to his feet, his clothes were held out to him by the female. He snatched them from her, his crest rising and his tongue flicking out in anger.
“How dare you treat me like this! Don’t you know who I am?” he demanded of the nearest male guard. “Not even the basest criminal is exposed to females and not only do you let this one see me naked, but you allow her to touch me!”
With one backhanded blow of his arm, he sent the female flying across the room till she collided with a metal cabinet. “Get her stinking body away from me!” he roared.
The room exploded into activity. He was instantly grabbed by the guards as the physician ran to the side of the unconscious female.
He struggled against them, this time using what he could muster of his full strength. Then he felt the coldness of a gun muzzle at the base of his neck and froze.
“That’s better,” a voice purred in his ear. “I wouldn’t kill you, but a stunner shot right here would be excruciating, don’t you think?”
“Get a stretcher in here on the double!” the physician was shouting. “I want the theater ready immediately, we’ve got a fractured skull here!” He paused to look up at Kezule. “Take that tree-climbing bastard out of here! There’s nothing wrong with him an execution wouldn’t cure!”
He was dragged out of the tent into the sunlight, then across the site to the vehicle where their commander had gone.
“What is it, Myule?” Raiban asked her aide, not bothering to look up from her comm.
“Lieutenant Naada, General. There’s been an incident involving the Valtegan captive.”
“What happened?” she demanded, her attention instantly on the lieutenant.
“One of the medics. Rashou Vrenga. The general hit her. It’s serious, I’m afraid, General Raiban.”
“Hit her? What d’you mean hit her? What the hell was she doing in there in the first place?”
“She’s one of the on-duty staff, I imagine, General,” Naada said, taken aback by her question. “The physician thinks her skull’s fractured. She’s been rushed to the theater.”
“Of all the incompetent, idiotic …” She stopped, obviously remembering herself. “Why weren’t my orders that no female personnel were to be allowed near him carried out?” she demanded coldly as she got to her feet.
“I’ve no idea, General Raiban,” Naada stammered, taking a step backward. “
I wasn’t aware of the orders myself.” The general’s temper was legendary and he was not enjoying being this close to it.
“Where’s Kezule now?”
“Outside your office, General. They’d finished the medical before he attacked the medic,” he added.
“Bring him in, then when he’s been escorted to the brig, you will find out who’s responsible for not implementing my orders. By Vartra, I’ll have the hide of the person responsible for this!”
“Yes, General Raiban,” he said.
“Myule!” she called. “Myule, I want to be kept informed about the condition of Medic Rashou Vrenga,” she said when her aide appeared. “I don’t care what I’m doing, you keep me updated. You heard what’s happened?”
Myule nodded.
“See that those on duty in the brig are aware that no female personnel are to be allowed near the area while we have Kezule on board—in fact, clear that section for the next three hours!”
“Yes, General.”
“Bring in your prisoner, Lieutenant,” she ordered. “I’ll see him now.”
Eyes still hurting from the rapid changes in light, he stood blinking in front her. Owlishly he watched her get to her feet.
“Where are his clothes?” she demanded. “I ordered him examined, not brought here naked!”
One of his guards held them out to her.
“I don’t want his damned clothing! Take the General to the brig and let him dress himself! See he’s fed and given whatever it is he drinks.” She turned her attention back to him. “General, I apologize for the indignity you’ve suffered. It won’t happen again, I assure you,” she said with stiff formality. “However, while you are our guest, I expect you to refrain from lashing out at my staff. Medical personnel are not warriors; in any conflict, they are recognized by both sides as neutral. I hope I’ve made myself clear.”