The Consort (Tellaran Series) (28 page)

Kyndan left Alari sleeping and pulled on a robe, wrapping it around himself as he padded through their empty quarters. As soon as he opened the door Utar straightened. No matter how early he rose he found the former warrior awaiting him in the hall. He’d good-naturedly accused the man of sleeping out here though Utar denied it.

Alari’s attendants took a step forward and he waved them back.

“No,” he murmured. “Let her sleep a while longer.”

It was the second night in a row she’d been woken by a terrifying nightmare. Her screams brought the attendants running and he held her as she sobbed of trying to reach Saria and failing only to watch her sister be pulled into open space.

“Caf?” the former warrior asked quietly.

“Please,” Kyndan returned. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He eased the door shut and went down the hall to his dressing room. Alari had her own; her wardrobe as regent would take up the house on Rusco where he’d grown up. He made a habit of bathing after his morning workout but he had to dress in warrior black to get from their quarters to the practice arena. He sat down on the bench and yawned again, trying to rub out the exhaustion from his eyes.

Alari was thinner now, her lovely dark eyes shadowed with fatigue, and he was really starting to worry. She worked constantly and rebuffed any suggestion that she rest or unwind or play, as if an hour’s inattention to the Empire’s running would have a mob pushing their way into their quarters, ready to throw them from the top of the falls. Only in lovemaking and for a little while afterwards, when she lay cradled in his arms, did she relax at all.

Maybe when I’ve finished taking the reins from Mezera she’ll start to feel safe again. Once I’m truly warlord she’ll know I can protect her.

Kyndan leaned down to fasten his boots, hoping the caf would be ready when he got there. He could sure use it.

A light’s flash caught his eye. Up on the shelf of his dressing room, placed neatly next to his dress uniform, the indicator on his comm unit flashed again.

Kyndan frowned. No one should be trying to reach him on that thing.

He stood and in one smooth movement grabbed the unit and thumbed the control. “Maere.”

“Kyndan.” His father sounded relieved, the transmission crackling with static. “I’ve been hailing you for twenty hours!”

“What’s going on?” Kyndan asked. “Where are you? I’m barely getting you.”

“I’m just at the edge of the Badlands. I’ve boosted the signal as best as I can.”

Kyndan’s frown deepened. There was still a Tellaran ship in orbit. “Why didn’t you contact me through the
Dauntless
relays?”

“I couldn’t risk anyone to intercepting this. Look, I don’t have much time, Kyn. A civilian ship entered Az-kye space two days ago.”

“
What
? What the hell were they doing here?”

“Private charter. Apparently they took it for granted that the peace treaty would be signed and decided to cross the border.”

Kyndan passed his hand over his face. “Did they exchange fire?”

“No, thank the gods. They managed to get out a distress signal before they were captured.”

Kyndan went still and felt a knot form in his stomach. “Father, why are you contacting me?”

“Kyndan, they’ve been captured by the Az-kye! You know what that means.”

He knew very well what that meant.

Kyndan shut his eyes. “You shouldn’t have contacted me. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Kyndan, they’re civilians!” Even light years away, even through the static, he could hear the shock and horror in his father’s voice. “Most of them are just university kids! You can help them. Godsdamn it, you have to
help
them.”

“There’s nothing I can do!” Kyndan hissed.

“Listen, Kyn, I can’t send the
Dauntless
and I can’t go in after them. We’d be violating the non-aggression agreement. You’re the only one who can help these people.”

He’d just asserted his authority as warlord. What kind of reaction would he get if he turned around and used it to help Tellarans?

“These people are
harmless
,” Ryndar continued. “An archeologist and eight of her students plus a civilian transport crew stupid enough to take the job.”

His father couldn’t see him, at this distance the transmission was audio only, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. Have the Tellaran Council make an appeal to the Empire. Send it through official channels.”

“There are no official channels! They haven’t even agreed to let the talks
begin
! They’re under no obligation to send those people home. These people aren’t spies, they aren’t commandoes. We’re talking about fourteen civilians, our own people, enslaved!”

Kyndan wet his lips, gripping the comm unit tightly in his hand.

“Commander, you are still an officer in the Tellaran fleet.” His father’s voice went hard. “You took a vow to protect these people. I am
ordering
you to get them out of there!”

He’d resigned—no matter what status his father had entered into the official record. He was Imperial Warlord, a member of the Az-kye Imperial family; it wasn’t as if the Fleet could court-martial him if he disobeyed an order. He didn’t—
couldn’t
—show loyalty to the Tellarans, not even his own father.

Godsdamn it, I can’t!

But he couldn’t get the words out.

If he and Kinara tried to purchase those Tellarans and send them home, it might take years, might even prove impossible, and in the meantime those people would have no rights, no recourse against possibly horrific treatment. Kinara had been able to gather those Tellarans to return them—to return
him
—to Tellaran space and freedom only because she held an Imperial writ from the empress for the period of her command.

He
couldn’t
go to Alari with this. Not after the talk they’d had about clanlessness, not after he understood how carefully she treaded, how precarious a balance she held.

But those students wouldn’t be much older than Kinna had been when he’d left on his first Fleet rotation, the same age as some of his crew when he’d watched them captured, beaten.

Utar was his friend and he couldn’t do a damned thing to free him either.

Kyndan’s heart was hammering so hard he felt dizzy and suddenly he was back in that cage, back with his stomach so empty it hurt, having his eye blackened because some fucking Az-kye thought he wasn’t moving fast enough.

There were so, so many enslaved, so many suffering, that he couldn’t help, maybe not for years and years.

But . . . these very few . . .

“
Commander!
” his father’s barked.

“Yes, Sir!” he snapped off automatically, his voice rough.

He drew a deep, steadying breath. His father hadn’t been stupid about this. The comm signal they were using now was a military encrypt, and there would be no signal relayed through the
Dauntless
to get picked up by the Az-kye escort ships. 

If the warship was still near the Badlands, if the Tellarans were held by a single Az-kye crew, there might be a way to do this quietly.

“Give me all the information you’ve got, Father,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll get them home.”

Kyndan put the datapad showing the records from Saria’s ship and the vessels that answered the distress call on his carved wood desk and sat back, his tea long since gone cold beside him. His stomach was still knotted from what he’d done that morning, of using his authority as warlord to get the Tellarans released, to command the Az-kye crew’s silence. He’d thrown himself into this work hoping to assuage some of that guilt, to make up for it by devoting himself entirely to his responsibilities to the Az-kye.

The air was thick with the scent of flowers from enclosed park below and the dark polished paneling of his private sitting room smelled faintly of tashi tree oil polish. Kyndan rubbed his tired eyes and drew in a long slow breath, wondering if it were too late in the day for some caf.

Why is doing the right thing making me feel so fucking sick?

But there was no “right” anymore really; his life no longer had the simple clean lines of right and wrong. Good and bad. Az-kye and Tellaran.

And maybe would never again.

As soon as the war leader submitted the records from Saria’s ship, from the vessels that answered the distress call for his review he’d holed up in his private study. This, at least, he could do for Alari and he threw himself into the work hoping to give his heart, and possibly hers, some peace.

“My mate?”

He looked up and gave a smile to see Alari in the doorway. The sun was setting now, and she was only just returning to their quarters.

“Are you well?” she asked, her brow creased. 

“I’m fine.”

He had a fierce headache and a gut full of guilt, but after the loss of her sister, her mother’s illness, and the strain of becoming regent, the last thing she needed was to be worrying over him.

She looked questioningly at the datapad he’d tossed onto the desk. “What troubles you so?”

He glanced at the maids accompanying her. “Leave us and shut the door behind you.” 

The leather-padded chair creaked as Kyndan stood and he came around the desk to join her, not sure if what he had to tell her was good news or bad. “I was looking over the data from the destruction of Saria’s ship.”

She went still, as if she were bracing herself. “What have you found?”

“Nothing,” he admitted tightly.  “I’ve been over every bit of data that the rescue ship took. The logs they recovered from her vessel, the readings of the ships that were sent to recover the wreckage. Everything. And I can’t find a festering thing that’s suspicious. Everything points to the navigation system going down, then they wind up off course near the Badlands and before they set out on the correct heading they get hit by an ionic front.”

“It was an accident then, after all,” Alari said thickly.

He scrubbed his face. “Yeah, an accident.”

“Did you—do you know—?”

“The part of the ship where Saria’s quarters were located got hit pretty hard. She died quickly.” He didn’t know that for sure, of course. He could provide enough data to show that part of the ship was very badly damaged though if she asked. And it would give Alari the only comfort he could offer. He cupped her cheek. “I’m sure she didn’t suffer.”

She swallowed. “Meithea was merciful in that at least.”

She stepped into his embrace, her cheek against his shoulder. When he was introduced, he had a few blistering words for the Az-kye Goddess of the Dead for taking Saria away from her sister like this. As a Tellaran, Bathea would guide him to his peace in the spirit world but he could probably talk her into a quick stop to speak his mind to Meithea.

Damn it, I just keep feeling like I missed something . . .

His comset signaled and sighing he reluctantly let her go. “Yes?”

“Your Highness, Kinara is laboring for the child.” Aidar’s voice, tight with anxiety, filled the room. “She wished you to know.”

“That’s great!” he enthused then a rush of worry hit him. All their enemies, all the dangers . . . “Isn’t it? Is Kinna okay?”

“The healer says the child is strong,” Aidar said. “As is my mate. The healer says there is no reason to worry. That we should none of us worry.”

Kyndan and Alari exchanged a smile at the sound of just how
not
worried the expectant father sounded.

“We’ll meet you at the medcenter,” Kyndan said.

“My mate will bear the child at our clanhouse.”

“What?” Kyndan stopped short. “
Why?
”

“She wishes it so.”

“Damn it,” he muttered. Why was she always doing these stupidly stubborn things?  He ran his hand through his hair. “All right, we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

There was a pause.

“Perhaps,” Alari said quietly, “it would be best not to burden the Az’anti with an Imperial visit this night, my mate.”

“This is
Kinna
, this is my little sister,” he said sharply. “I’m going. If it were Saria, you’d be there, wouldn’t you?”

Sadness filled her dark eyes.

“Gods, I’m sorry,” he said instantly, catching her hand.  “That was absolutely—I’m sorry.”

She nodded and if Kyndan expected Aidar to disagree, to insist that yes, of course he should come, he was very disappointed. 

In fact, his brother-in-law wasn’t saying anything at all.

He wet his lips.  “Aidar, I know we’ve had our differences but I need you to be completely honest with me here—What does Kinna want?”

Aidar was silent for a moment. “I think were you Kyndan Maere still then your presence would be a comfort to her,” he said slowly. “Perhaps though, Your Highness, it is best for her if you allow us to welcome you at another time.”

Alari’s fingers intertwined with his.

His throat was tight. In some part of his mind Kinna wasn’t a grown woman.  She was still a trembling eight-year-old girl with tear-filled blue eyes and he was her big brother, two kids left with a father so stunned by his wife’s death he could barely function. For that whole first year Kyndan woke Kinna for school and made her breakfast, made her clean her teeth before bed, checked her homework. His own grief was pushed aside because she needed him to take care of her.

He wanted to be nearby in case she needed him, or needed anything. He wanted to be in the waiting area like any other uncle, ready for the medtech to come and tell him the good news.

But he wasn’t like any other uncle now.

Kyndan let his breath out slowly. “If she changes her mind, if she wants me at any time, I’ll be there. In fact, I’m going to have a litter at the ready to get me there fast. And the Az’anti will be excused from any ‘greeting’ nonsense. You contact me if—just keep me informed how things are going, okay?”             

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Okay,” Kyndan mumbled and ended the call. He gave Alari a rueful smile. “It’s going to be a long night.”             

“Longer for the Lady of the Az’anti, I think,” she said, with a small smile.

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”

“I know you are worried. Distressed that you cannot be there.”

“Well, I’m a lot closer than I would have been on
the
Sertarian
,” he joked, then swallowed. “Aidar’ll take good care of her; he’ll make sure she gets the best care she can. And I’ll get to see Kinna and the baby in a day or so.”

She looked at his hand in hers. “I have something for you. Perhaps my gift to distract you.”

“Princess.” His gaze ran over her. “You have my full attention.”

She laughed and shook her head.  “Wait here.”

“Oh.” He raised his eyebrows. “Uh, okay.”

Alari slipped out and he went to the balcony of his study. The moons had risen but the palace was still a hub of activity. In the park below he could see that workers were still laboring to prepare for the festival of Azis.

He looked to the west, toward the Az’anti clanhouse. He couldn’t see it from here of course, but tonight Kinara would have her baby and the Az’anti would have its new heiress.

A year ago I hated this planet and almost everyone on it. Now not only is it my world, it’s a world I’m responsible to protect and defend.

Alari came back carrying a parchment, her dark eyes shining.

And she makes it home.

“What’s this?” he asked as she laid the paper on his desk.

She pulled aside the protective parchment and his breath caught.

“It is a gift for you,” she said, blushing. “I hope it pleases you.”

His eyes went over the sketch; the swaying blooms of trees in the enclosed Imperial park, the fountain at the very center with its spray creating a feeling of movement against a cloudless sky. 

“Oh, Alari,” he murmured, spreading the drawing over the table. “It’s beautiful.”

“Does it please you?” she asked. “Truly?”

“I love it.” He shook his head, smiling. “When did you even have time to do this?”

She gave a shy shrug. “A little here and there.”

“You couldn’t have given me anything better.”

Her blush deepened.

“What is it?” he asked, catching her against him and very curious now.

“I thought,” she mumbled, “perhaps we too could try for a baby, my mate.”

He burst out laughing and she gave him a hurt look.

“You do not wish for a child, Kyndan?”

“Oh, believe me,” he said, grinning, “I’m ready and willing to do my part.” Then his sobered a little. “I wasn’t sure if you were ready. I know everyone’s been pressuring you.”

She looked surprised. “How did you know it so?”

“Are you kidding? If everyone is asking
me
when we’re going to be providing an heiress they must be
hounding
you.”

“They wish security for our line, they long for the safety of a heiress. But that is not why I wish for a child now.” Her mouth curved into a tender smile. “I want something of us, of how I feel for you, to add to the wonder of the universe, to make it that much more beautiful.”

Kyndan’s eyes stung. A daughter of theirs would rule this vast empire. If they had only boys, the eldest’s mate would rule. Any child they created would link them forever throughout time, generations of their progeny—of an Az-kye princess and a Tellaran commoner—would shape this section of the galaxy.

He knew that, of course. But what flashed through his mind was holding a chubby hand for the first steps, tucking a toddler into bed with a story, tickling and giggles and carrying their child on his shoulders.

A child with eyes as dark and beautiful as Alari’s.

“Kyndan?” She searched his face. “What is it?”

“I want to be worthy of this. Of you. Of our child.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I am.”

She traced the curve of his cheek. “I am sure.”

Her velvety gaze was lit from within and his heart swelled with gratitude to whatever deity let him be part of her life. 

He didn’t trust his voice but he managed to nod.

She smiled. “I think that is only the second time I have seen you without words, my mate.”

He gave a short, shaky laugh. “I’m sure there were more than two times.”

She took his hand, drawing him to their bedchamber. “Well, two where you still clothed.”

“Let me,” he said softly, then started with the pins that held her dark hair; gently he eased them out, smiling when her glossy hair fell free down her back.

“You know,” he said lightly, starting on the shoulder closures of her beaded and embroidered overdress, “I think the toughest thing for me about you being regent is the ten million layers of clothing you have to wear. We both know I’m not a patient man.”

She sighed in relief as he eased the heavy layer away.

“I am to represent Lashima of the Night Sky,” she reminded. “Though I much wish she were more like the Tellaran’s goddess of Love, Arrena, and more often went about naked instead.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, but goddesses don’t get cold,” he reminded, helping her out of the next layers. Alari raised her arms so he could lift the underdress. He tossed it aside and hooked his fingers at her final tiny undergarments to slide them down to her ankles.