Sheala (34 page)
Sheala looked around the room. What a mess.
At her side, her mother-in-law still stood grasping one of her hairpins in each hand. Blood dried on both of them. Her husband stood behind her, unwounded but disheveled.
Sheala looked down at her dress. Dried blood was caked on the hem. A large ribbon of fabric trailed off to her left side. She raked her fingers back through her hair and dislodged a piece of fruit. She leaned back against Marljas’ broad chest. “I think I’d like to go back to our rooms now, too.”
* * * * *
Picking up his shirt, Bjin nodded to Jessilindra. “Thank you.”
She stared at him. “You looked exactly like a
pholola
. Nobody doubted you were really a horse.”
Bjin grimaced as his shirt settled on the jagged wound that stretched from one shoulder blade to the other. “Anyone observant enough would have seen I wasn’t big enough—and I have blue eyes.”
“Everyone was too busy ducking arrows to look that closely.” She pursed her lips. “Why did you do it?”
“Last year, our eldest seer had a vision in which the Gattan queen was assassinated. War erupted and spread throughout the galaxy. I was sent here to prevent that assassination. All Gattan would rather commit suicide than hurt a
pholola
. By morphing into one and placing myself in front of the queen and king, I protected them. Also, everyone who saw me cannot deny that the
pholola
support Mattis’ rule.
Very, very few will now conspire against her.”
Jessilindra snorted. “You could have been killed.”
Smiling sadly, Bjin nodded once. “Since my wife died, death would be welcome to me. But my planet’s elders believe the Creator still has uses for me. After today, I believe they may be correct.” He bowed formally. “May the blessing of the Creator bring you happy dreams.” After one last nod, he left the room.
Jessilindra glanced over to the woman holding the basin of bloody water. “You will not tell anyone else Deslossians are metamorphs.”
The assassin assigned to be Jessilindra’s personal bodyguard bowed her head. “Of course, Princess.”
* * * * *
“Where have you been?” a young
Tigre
hissed. “We’ve been here for two days with no food and only a little water.”
The hooded Gattan stepped into the room. “I was making arrangements to get you off the planet. There are troops everywhere and all transports are being searched.”
Four other men stepped through the doorway.
“Varcian pirates!” snarled the first man who’d spoken.
“Who else do you think can get you off Gattan? Or would you rather turn yourselves in to the queen’s guards? The
Snopard
elders are here too.”
The five young
Tigres
stopped muttering. The scent of fear permeated the air. “What do we have to do?” the youngest asked.
“Gladic here will hide you in a secret compartment of his ship and take you to a safe house on another planet. From there, you’ll be able to contact your families for whatever help they can get to you.”
“We must go,” another stated. “If we stay, we’ll be executed—and our families will suffer huge blooddebts.”
Mutters of agreement circled the room, and the five
Tigres
followed the pirates out.
The pirate called Gladic remained behind.
The hooded Gattan smiled. “Take them to the asteroid belt in the Darlin quadrant. Your people are always looking for more slaves for the borium mines.”
The pirate snorted. “They won’t last a month.”
White teeth flashed inside the Gattan’s hood. “Do you care?”
Laughing, Gladic followed his men.
The Gattan waited a few minutes left. Walking steadily but not quickly enough to cause undue notice, he navigated through back alleys and narrow streets until he reached the tavern where he had a room.
Pausing long enough to make sure the traps he’d set for intruders hadn’t been disturbed, he slipped through the door and bolted it behind him.
“Hello, Hathnic.”
Whirling, his hand dipped into his belt. A silver star whirled across the room. It thunked into the wall.
The lights flashed on.
Four feet to the right of the star, Ban leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.
Hathnic shrugged out of his hood and cape and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Bandalardrac Hardan. Your fortunes have improved lately. I hear the Alalakans have taken you back into the family.
Back on hedonistic Drakan. All your dreams have been fulfilled.”
Ban nodded. “You seem to have come down in the world. This—luxury—is not what you’re used to.”
His eyes never left Ban’s face. “Actually, it’s much like the room I lived in the first nine years of my life.”
“You have forsworn your oaths.”
The other man shrugged. “Not my oaths. My life of poverty.”
“Assassins don’t live in poverty.”
“They do not live like Medirian princes, either.”
Shaking his head, Ban straightened. “You always were too greedy. How much did you charge Jadis to assassinate her sister?”
“Enough,” Hathnic said as he stepped to his right. “Why did Kavlalardrac send you? I can’t believe he wants you dead like the others he sent after me. I always defeated you when we sparred.”
Ban smiled. “Times change.”
“There’s not an assassin who can defeat me, not even the Monarch’s Assassin.”
Ban’s smile slid into a grin.
Hathnic stopped moving. “You?”
Ban uncrossed his arms. Two stars flew towards Hathnic.
He fell to the floor and rolled left to his feet.
“Is that the best you can do, Monarch’s Assassin?”
His voice dripped with contempt.
“Good disguise,” Ban commented as he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “If one doesn’t look closely, you easily pass for a
Tigre
.” A knife slid out of his sleeve.
Hathnic grinned as he stepped to the left again, keeping Ban in front of him. “Another stupid throw, Bandalardrac. Your style is so obvious to one with my skills. And this is an excellent disguise. No one thinks I am anything other than Gattan.”
“I do,” Kahn said as he stepped from the shadows and slipped a cord around Hathnic’s neck. He died almost instantly. The rogue’s body fell to the floor.
Kahn looked at Ban. “You talk too much.”
Ban chuckled. “And you, my friend, don’t talk enough.” He stared at the body. “Hathnic was very skilled. He should have realized there was a third person in the room.”
“He was always overconfident,” Kahn answered in a flat voice. “Besides, assassins always work alone.
He never expected two of us.”
Hands on his hips, Ban stared at the body. “A fatal error on his part, to think we wouldn’t break with tradition.” Bending down, he searched the body. “Nothing. If someone other than Jadis was involved, we won’t find out from him.”
“Kavlalardrac will be disappointed but not surprised. We’ll have to find how the pirates are linked to Gattan some other way.”
Ban wiped his hands on the dead man’s shirt. “Our main priority was to neutralize Hathnic. Mediria can’t afford to have rogue assassins wandering about the galaxy.”
Kahn’s grunt was affirmative. He added, “What will we do with the body?”
“The river next to the city is deep.” The gills on the side of Ban’s neck fluttered. “I am half Medirian, you know. Breathing underwater is easy enough, and it’s a nice night for a swim, don’t you think?”
* * * * *
Sosha nodded.
“Are you sure you want to come with us? The queen gave you that estate. You’re the daughter of a landed family, now. Didn’t your mother say something about finding you a husband?”
Sosha smiled a sad smile. “Even with the estate, no man will want me.” She held out her hands. “No man would take a clawless, scarred woman such as I for a mate. No mother would want me for her son.”
Sheala sighed. Gattans could be so stubborn! “I still say you’re wrong. You need to give the men here a chance.”
Sosha’s voice was sharp. “No! I have accepted Teena’s invitation to stay there. I will return with you to visit Drakan and then go on to visit Brianna’s planet, too.” Then she smiled. “Or I could go with Ban to Mediria. He says he can’t wait to introduce me to his grandmother.”
Sheala’s laughter echoed around the hallway.
“Has Teena settled the blooddebt the queen’s aunt owes you?”
Her laughter changing to a snort, Sheala nodded. “Five breeding mares, all in foal to their herd stallion.
What am I supposed to do with ten horses?”
Both were still laughing as they rounded a corner and stopped short.
Radris had Beti pinned against the wall and was kissing her as if there were no tomorrow.
Minutes passed—slowly.
Finally, Beti worked a hand free and slapped him along the side of his head.
He staggered and she slipped free. “You are becoming more devious, Radris. There is hope for you yet.” Nodding to Sheala and Sosha, she disappeared around the corner.
After shaking his head, Radris grinned at the two girls. “I waited until she was finished training with the priestesses. I figured three hours of working with them would slow her reflexes. I was right.”
Sosha clamped her hands over her mouth.
Sheala didn’t bother to stifle her laughter. When she finally caught her breath and stopped hiccupping, she said, “To satisfy your Gattan—sensibilities—Colonel, Feni is Beti’s sister, her older sister. I’m sure she will give you permission to court Beti.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Radris bowed. “My thanks, wife of Marljas Drefeson.” He followed Beti around the corner.
Sheala blew her hair up off her forehead. “Why do you Gattan have to be so formal! Why can’t everyone just call me Sheala?”
Chuckling, Sosha linked her arm through Sheala’s again. “Only close family and friends may call you Sheala. Ask Deni and Teena to tell everyone your mother’s name. Then at least, you’ll be Sheala Xdanasdotir.”
Still grumbling, Sheala sauntered into her suite with Sosha. She was barely inside the door when Marljas appeared out of the bedroom, lifted her, and pinned her against the wall.
“You
will
control your Drakian impulses in public!”
Laughing, Sosha retreated the way she had come, closing the door behind her.
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Silence, Wife! Today, I had five separate men stop me and ask if they could watch when you make love to me. Since the day in the reception room when you offered to let Kadis watch, they wondered if the invitation was open to everyone. What’s more, my mother has informed me that at least six of the older women have asked her the same thing.”
Flat against the wall, her feet dangling a good foot above the ground, Sheala stared into her husband’s face and began to giggle. “Do you think we should?”
His roar reverberated around the room. “No! This is not Drakan. My wife will not make love to me while other men or women are watching! And when we are on Drakan, we will not make love with others watching, nor will you make love with any other man.” He stared into her eyes. “Or woman,” he added, obviously as an afterthought. “You may be Drakian, but you are mated to a Gattan and will remain faithful to me.”
Sheala tilted her head.
He continued to glare at her.
Behind the anger glittering in his golden eyes, she spied something else—fear. Of what? Realization dawned. She was Drakian and many Drakians were promiscuous after marriage. “Oh my love,” she whispered as she lifted her hands and cupped his face. “You fascinated me from the first day I first saw you standing half naked in my mother’s house. Yes, I learned about sex from instructors, but you—you’re the one who introduced me to love. You’re the only one I completely trust with my body—and soul. I love you, Marljas. I will never want anyone else.”
“Sheala,” he sighed as he pulled her into his arms, “my wife.” He covered her mouth with his.
Sheala answered his kiss by sucking his tongue into her mouth. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.
She kissed him until she had no breath left, then pulled her mouth from his.
Gasping for breath, he rested his forehead against hers.
Sliding her hands down his cheeks and neck, she flattened them against his muscular chest and rubbed her nose against his. “So, are we going to make love standing against the wall or are you taking me to bed?”
Shouting with laughter, Marljas tossed her into the air and caught her in his arms. “The wall can wait until next time.” Spinning on his heel, he carried her towards the bedroom.
Chuckling, Sheala wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his chest. Loving this Gattan was the smartest thing she’d ever done.
About the Author
Living in a small town in Central Pennsylvania, Judy Mays spends the time she isn’t teaching English to tenth graders as a wife and mother. Family is very important to Judy, and she spends a lot of time with her husband and children. Judy’s pets are a very important part of her life, and she’s had many over the years. Currently, Zoe the cat and Boomer the Lab mix help keep things hopping around the house.
Judy loves reading—especially romance, the spicier the better. After reading for more years than she cares to admit, Judy decided to try her hand at writing romantica—and her wonderful husband of seventeen years provides plenty of motivation and ideas.
In the upcoming months, the tales by Judy Mays will contain werewolves, vampires, witches, and aliens from five planets on the other side of the galaxy. All of the heroes or heroines will fall madly in love and demonstrate their love in so very, very many ways.
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Enjoy Judy’s books, and after you’ve read one, she would love to hear what you think. Either stop by her website at www.judymays.com and sign her guest book or contact her directly at [email protected]. She can’t wait to hear from you.