Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Hunger's Harmattan (14 page)

“Oh Ailyn. What did she do to him?”

“It would be easier to tell you what she
didn’t do to him,” Ailyn said. “At some point, she broke every bone in his
body. She tortured that man in ways you couldn’t begin to imagine. The most
revolting thing was to somehow mesh a portion of her DNA with his, mutating his
body and changing the complete physical structure. The results are horrifying.
She performed her hideous experiments on him before she gave him a parasite
else the queen would not have allowed his body to change as it did.”

“And she got away with it,” she said,
shaking her head.

“No one knows where she went but Bakari put
a five million
cúirs
bounty out on her. With the gods’ help, maybe one
day she’ll be brought to justice.” He shrugged. “Wherever she is, I don’t even
think Morrigunia can touch her. The Burgon told us he won’t bother charging her
with her crimes if she’s ever found. He will simply burn her alive as she did
Jules.”

He fell silent and finally lay back down,
putting his hands over his face. She could tell he was exhausted and got up to
blow out the candle again. Returning to the bed, she held her arms out.

“Come here,
ehemann
,” she said. “Let
your lady hold you.”

Ailyn turned over so his head rested on her
breast. His right arm went over her waist, his right leg over her thigh. He
went to sleep with her arms around him.

The next morning, they made the trek back
over the mountain to Ailyn’s cave. They had another week and some odd days
before the LRC would return for Shanee and they wanted to spend it alone
together. It was on the third night they were home that Shanee woke and could
not get back to sleep. She tossed and turned then finally got up from their
pallet, not wanting to wake Ailyn for since his confession to her about Cean
and her assistants, he had been sleeping soundly all through the night.

Brewing herself a cup of tea, she took the
mug and walked outside the cave and to the banks of the stream. She sat down on
a rock, stretched out her long legs and took a sip of the piping hot beverage.
There was a full moon overhead and the water was like a silver ribbon as it
flowed past the place where she sat.

It was the sudden cessation of the chirping
and clicking of insects that caught her immediate attention. The night air was
perfectly still, not a leaf rustling on the trees. Turning her head slowly to
the left, she was surprised to see a crouched figure passing furtively through
the stand of trees. She watched it move with quiet stealth toward the cave’s
entrance, completely unaware of her presence there at the stream.

As cautiously as she could, she set the cup
of tea down and stood. She mentally cursed herself for she’d brought no weapon
with her. The threat that was moving toward the cave entrance both angered and
alarmed her. Her mate was inside and sleeping, unaware danger was lurking
nearby.

Moving just as carefully and silently, she
followed, her hands doubled into fists at her side, her naked body tense and
primed for a fight. If her ancestors could fight unclothed and unarmed, she
thought, so could she.

She stopped when the figure stopped.
Holding her breath, she stood perfectly still as the one she’d been following
slowly turned and looked straight at her. She didn’t think she could be seen
for she was hidden beneath the spreading branches of an orange tree. For the
longest time there was no movement from either the dark figure or Shanee. There
was no sound. Finally, the one at the entrance to the cave seemed to be content
there was no danger and turned around, sweeping aside the hanging curtain of
vines that hung over the cave entrance. As the vines parted, moonlight glinted
off something in the figure’s hand and Shanee’s heart accelerated. She lunged
forward, intent on tackling whoever or whatever was trying to gain access to
her home and Ailyn.

Startled by the sudden rush of sound behind
it, the figure sprang aside and started to dart back into the lush foliage to
the side of the cave, dropping whatever it had been holding. It turned back,
bent down to scoop up what it had dropped and it was at that moment that it
came face-to-face with Ailyn Harmattan’s bride.

Shanee was running so hard she nearly
slammed face first into the cave. Her hands slapped against the rock but years
of military training pivoted her around, expecting the figure to attack her. It
was only a few feet away from her—its face fully lit by the moonlight—and what
she saw made the Amazeen cry out in shock.

Time stood still as Shanee stared with wide
eyes and opened mouth at the nightmarish form. Her heart seemed to have ceased
beating and for the first time in her life knew what true fear was. She nearly
fainted when she felt strong hands on her shoulders—tightening almost
painfully—and dragging her back against a rock-hard body. She would have
screamed had not Ailyn’s soft voice shushed her.

“Good eve, Jules,” she heard her husband
say.

The deformed man half hidden in the thick
bushes moved backward another step and made a grunting noise as he straightened
out of his crouch. He was clutching something metallic against his broad chest.

“My lady-wife was intent on protecting me,”
Ailyn said. “She is an Amazeen.”

Shanee could not take her eyes from the
monstrosity facing her. Over seven feet in height with very muscular arms and
legs, he had pale gray flesh covered in what appeared to be wiry tendrils that
covered him from head to toe. He had leathery lips and a broad, flat nose with
a triple row of vented nostrils thrust out from beneath almond-shaped black
eyes that had no pupils. His ears were pointed and twitched like those of a
cat. His very large hands had exceedingly long fingers though his thumb was
short and flanged out at the tip. One thick, strange-looking plait of jagged
scales fell from the top of his head to just below his hips. He wore a
breechclout over his genitals and it was obvious to her that he was very well
endowed.

“This is Shanee,” Ailyn said.

There was a low, warbling grunt from Jules.
He took another step back as though prepared to run at any moment.

“Would you like to come inside?” Ailyn
asked.

The horror that had once been an
exceedingly handsome man shook his head vehemently, his long plait whipping as
though it were a viper.

Shanee shook off her husband’s grip and
stepped forward, stilling when Jules once more stepped back. She held out her
hand. “Hello, Jules,” she managed to say. She tried to smile but her face felt
frozen.

Jules looked down at her hand then cocked
his head to one side. His dark eyes were like stygian pools in his cinereous
face. When she came closer, he thrust what he was holding out to her.

Taken aback by the sudden movement, Shanee
jumped. Her gaze fell to the thing in his overly large hands and she had to
caution herself not to cringe when she saw the long, pointed red claws that
grew from his fingers.

With another grunt and one step toward
Shanee, Jules straightened to his full height and his chin lifted. He moved his
offering toward her.

Shanee realized what he was holding out to
her, what had flashed so dangerously in the moonlight, was an eight by ten
piece of flattened tin. Her forehead wrinkled as she reached for it. In her
hands it was very warm and she realized that like Ailyn and all Reapers, his
body temperature was much higher than a humanoid’s. She felt her husband move
up behind her.

Jules seemed to be swaying back and forth
from foot to foot and his movement reminded her of a little boy anxious for his
mother to see what he had brought her.

She held the flattened tin so she could see
it clearly in the moonlight and her lips parted. She stared at the surface of
the tin then slowly lifted her gaze to Jules. “You did this?” she asked.

The hideously deformed man bobbed his head
and grunted again.

Shanee turned her head and looked at Ailyn.
“Look,” she said.

What she held in her hand was an
intricately designed and executed punched and pierced tin portrait of Ailyn and
Shanee looking at one another during their Joining. They were holding hands
with the waterfall and the lake in the background. The portrait was so
lifelike, so perfectly precise and carefully crafted with an oval Gaelach
knotwork pattern enclosing the couple. At the top left corner was an ancient
Claddagh symbol and on the top right was a trinity knot of entwined hearts. On
the bottom left corner were their names and on the bottom right the date. The
craftsmanship was superb, the most beautiful thing either Ailyn or Shanee had
ever seen.

“Oh Jules,” she whispered. “It is
exquisite.”

Ailyn met the other man’s eyes. “Thank you,
my friend. We will hang it in a place of honor in our home and think of you.”

Jules grunted again, shrugged and then
turned to go.

“Wait!” Shanee called out and before the
misshapen man could flee, she was in front of him, standing on tiptoe with her
hands on his upper arms so she could place a soft kiss on his leather tendril
cheek.

Too astonished that this beautiful woman
would deign to touch him much less put her lips to him, Jules just stood there
staring at her. She was smiling at him as though he were a normal man and he
put his hand up to the place where her lips had touched him.

“Thank you,” she said. “I will treasure
your gift always.”

With a sound that was more whimper than
grunt, he whipped around and was gone, leaving nothing behind but an eerie
black mist that fell like rain to the jungle floor.

Shanee turned back to her husband and just
looked at him.

“He comes here now and then,” Ailyn said.
“Not often. Only I suppose whenever he can’t take the loneliness. It’s been
months since I’ve seen him. He lives at the base of the stream.”

“C-can he talk?” she asked.

“Aye, but it is so garbled you have to
listen carefully,” he replied. “I’m used to it.”

She came toward him and he took her hand.
The wedding gift from Jules was clasped to her chest. Together they went back
into the cave and when they were in the chamber where they slept, Shanee took
the portrait and propped it on a stone ledge in a prominent place. She ran the
tips of her fingers across the lovely artwork.

“He is so talented,” she said.

“Aye, he is,” Ailyn agreed.

“And so very lonely,” she said.

Ailyn didn’t answer. He had heard her voice
break and when she turned and threw herself at him, sobbing as though her heart
would break, he enclosed her in his arms and crooned to her.

“I hate that bitch for doing that to him!”
she said.

He held her for a long time as she cried
for a man whose plight had touched her very soul.

Chapter Eight

The LRC
Midian
returned for Shanee
far sooner than she would have liked. Her thirty days of R&R were over and
she had to leave the paradise that was Theristes and the friends she had made
on the lush, tropical world. She would miss Tariq and Bahiya, Jared, Damian and
the others. And though he had not returned to visit again, she would miss the
lonely man who lived at the base of the stream.

Dressed once more in her gray Riezell
Guardian uniform that she had not worn since her first days on Theristes, her
entire bearing seemed to be changing as she stepped on board the LRC. Her face
was rigid, her lips clamped together.

Ailyn—clothed in the immaculate black
uniform of a Reaper—was characteristically quiet as he walked with his lady up
the ramp and onto the ship.

Captain Bartlett met Shanee and Ailyn on
the bridge and put out a hand to the Reaper. “I am pleased to hear you will be
returning home, Lieutenant,” he said, shaking Ailyn’s hand. He nodded at Shanee
and acknowledged her with a quick nod. He knew the Amazeen did not shake hands
with men.

“Thank you, Sir, but I think my commission
ended when I was believed dead,” Ailyn said.

“Not so,” Bartlett replied. “You are still
on the roster since no body was ever found and you might be interested to know
that you will be receiving all back pay due you upon your return to Riezell.”

Ailyn nodded. “It’s good to know I won’t be
penniless.”

Shanee snorted and when Ailyn shot her a
warning look, she told the captain she would be showing Ailyn to their
quarters.

Bartlett’s face turned hard. “No, Colonel,
you will not,” the captain of the
Midian
stated. “I do not allow
unmarried people to cohabit on my ship. I firmly believe…”

“The lieutenant and I were duly married
before gods and man on Theristes, Captain,” Shanee interrupted. “It is our
legal right to bunk together and we intend to do just that. If you have a
problem, you may take it up with General Strom.”

There was a relieved sigh from the captain.
It was obvious he didn’t want to tangle with the Amazeen. “Well, all right. I
am pleased to know something so wonderful came from your trip out here.”

“Will there be anything else?” Shanee
snapped, and when the captain shook his head, she asked when the
Midian
would be lifting off.