The Warrior's Bride (Warriors 0f Valkred Book 3) Page 5

  As Judy was about to learn.

  She was craning her neck to take in the sights – I remembered that her planet didn't have nearly this much foliage, at least on its surface. At one point, she stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes, and inhaled the freshness of the evening air. She was tremendously beautiful standing like that, her neck arched slightly, hugging her shawl tightly around her upper body, her expression serene.

  I didn't want to interrupt such a lovely scene, but unfortunately, I had no choice. As I had told her before, death and danger don't stop in consideration of our leisure, or moments of beauty. It was a lesson she needed to internalize, if she would have any hope of surviving our mission.

  I tapped her on the shoulder, pointing out a palace guard approaching. “That man. How many weapons is he carrying?”

  She frowned at me for a moment, confused, and then concentrated on the guard. “Three. His spear, plus the blaster and utility knife clipped to his belt.”

  I shook my head impatiently. “Look closer.”

  She squinted at him. “There's a slight bulge in his trousers down at the ankle. Another blaster?”

  “Yes. There's one near his wrist as well, indicating a knife or mini-blaster stashed up his sleeve. If he had chosen to attack you and you had focused on his obvious armaments while ignoring the hidden ones, he could easily have killed you.”

  Judy raised an eyebrow. “But why would he attack me? The guards are here to protect us, aren't they?”

  “In theory, yes. However, what if Torqa had sent that one to infiltrate the palace and assassinate you?”

  She sighed heavily. “But she didn't send the guard out here tonight, did she? You did. As a test.”

  “Correct.”

  “So when you said this wasn't going to be part of my training…”

  “That was a lie,” I confirmed.

  “Ugh. So much for complimenting your honesty earlier.”

  “Everything is part of your training,” I informed her. “That is your first and most important lesson. Every experience, even a simple leisure activity like going for a moonlit stroll, can pose dangers – and new opportunities to learn how to overcome them. No matter where you are or what you are doing, you must always be prepared for the possibility of combat. You must question everything, and take nothing for granted.”

  To her credit, she nodded her understanding. “You're right, of course. I asked you to instruct me as you had been instructed, and clearly, you are. Thank you for taking my request so seriously. I appreciate that.”

  “You are very welcome,” I answered. “Are you ready to continue?”

  “Bring it on.”

  Her voice was different now than it had been a moment before – as hard as steel, and filled with determination. I admired that. No protests, no more whining about fairness. Just readiness, and the will to learn.

  Perhaps she would make a formidable warrior after all.

  “Very well.” I pointed to another guard walking toward us on the path. “You see him as a threat, and decide to attack him. How do you proceed?”

  She studied him for a few seconds. “He has a slight limp, and he's favoring the left leg as a result. Therefore, it stands to reason that his right leg would be a vulnerable point to target.”

  “Too obvious. It would also stand to reason that if he had such an obvious weak point, he'd have trained himself to defend specifically against such attacks. But look at his left eye.”

  “The eyelid droops slightly.”

  “Exactly. Indicating nerve damage from a previous injury, and perhaps even some loss of sight on that side. You could assault him from his blind spot and catch him off-guard.”

  Judy smirked, waiting for the sentry to be out of earshot before she spoke again. “A bad leg and a bad eye? Not much of a palace guard, is he?”

  I crossed my arms, cocking my head to one side. “Thezis has more scars and wounds than the others because of his bravery in the service of Valkred – he is less inclined to retreat from battles. There are few men I would rather have at my side in the heat of combat.”

  “But what about the gemstones your healers use? Why didn't they restore his body completely?”

  “He belongs to a special sect of Valkredian warriors who don't believe in such things. They have pledged to overcome injuries sustained in war the hard way, without the aid of such magic trinkets.”

  “They sound like masochists,” Judy said with a humorless laugh.

  “In a manner of speaking. They teach themselves to enjoy the pain, and the struggle that comes with it, because it gives them a chance to hone their own strength and endurance. They believe weakness must be burned away in a crucible of physical torment and redemption. They understand something few warriors do: that pain and defeat are the greatest teachers of all, and that such experiences are to be remembered and cherished, rather than discarded. It is a lesson you would do well to heed, particularly after your last encounter with Torqa.”

  “It sounds like you admire them a great deal,” she observed. “Are you one of them?”

  “I wanted to join. But Akzun forbid it – he said I was too important to the war effort against the Mana to reject the benefits of full restoration at the hands of the healers. And I serve the Blood Ruler in all things.”

  “But the war is over now, isn't it?” she pressed. “So you could join that sect now if you wanted to, right?”

  “The war with the Mana is over, yes,” I sighed. “Now we are at war with Torqa and her forces. And after that, there will no doubt be another war, and another, and another. This galaxy never seems to know peace… at least, not for long. It is simply the way of things.”

  As I said these words, I felt an old familiar paradox twist me up inside. Yes, there was a part of me that regretted the constant conflict and violence that always seemed to loom over our planet – threatening our people, our way of life.

  But the other part of me had always been gripped by a grim certainty: that I was built to fight, the same way fish are built to swim and birds to fly. That it was my nature, inescapable, undeniable. I was a soldier. A warrior. Take away my battles, and what was I? What else could I possibly be good at?

  It was why I had dedicated myself so fully to the art of combat, and never sought or pursued a mate. I was a fighter, not a lover. I was created to rend and destroy, not to comfort.

  And now there was Judy, and the feeling that permeated every cell in my body – that she was my mate. That I had to have her, protect her, and remain with her forever.

  How could I reconcile those elements within myself?

  I shook my head, trying to clear it. I couldn't afford to tie myself in knots over such things – not now, not when I had to focus on rescuing Judy's parents and ending Torqa's campaign of terrorism once and for all.

  “I guess I'm not as familiar with the wars that plague the galaxy, since I'm from Macur,” Judy said. “That's why you brought me there, isn't it? To spare me from all that? Then again, I suppose all that violence found its way there, too.”

  She shivered and pulled the shawl more tightly around herself, no doubt remembering the slaughter of her people. I was struck by a strange desire to reach out – to touch her, embrace her, help her banish such horrible memories. It was an impulse I'd never felt before.

  But I stood my ground instead. Like the sect of soldiers I'd described, she needed to allow herself to feel the pain and fear, so she could harden herself against it. I'd be doing her no favors if I tried to take that away from her.

  Suddenly, a dark figure dropped from the branches of a nearby tree, tackling Judy to the ground as swiftly and silently as a K'karri shroud-raven snatching its prey from the air. Judy squealed with surprise and panic, trying to fight off her attacker – but her arms were under the shawl she'd selected, and she couldn't free them in time. Her wide eyes glistened in the moonlight as a blade was pressed to her throat.

  When she looked up at me and saw that I was unconcerned, I detected a m
oment of uncertainty in her expression. Had I betrayed her? Had I been a spy working for Torqa all along?

  Good. I was glad she had the presence of mind to ask herself these questions… just as I was glad when she quickly realized the true answer.

  “Let me guess: another 'demonstration' you arranged?” she asked sourly.

  I nodded as Surge pulled himself off her, sheathing his blade and offering her a hand. She swatted it aside, rising on her own with a groan.

  Another thing to admire her for – her pride and defiance.

  Perhaps I had been mistaken in initially insisting she remain on Valkred. Perhaps she truly would be an asset on this mission after all, rather than a liability. As long as I could keep myself from getting too close.

  “This is Surge, my faithful lieutenant,” I told her.

  “And what was this supposed to teach me?” she challenged. “To never let my guard down? To keep an eye on the trees?”

  “Those are both excellent lessons,” I said. “Here's another: Never wear anything that will hinder your ability to use your arms and legs to their fullest capacity in the event that you are attacked.”

  “It was the warmest thing I could find in the closet,” she protested.

  “Being alive is more important than being comfortable,” Surge pointed out gruffly. “No garment will keep you warm once you're in the grave.”

  “What a charming expression.” She gingerly touched the scrapes she'd sustained from the fall. “I'll have to remember that one.”

  “What news of the escape pod?” I asked Surge. “What did the technicians find?”

  “They were able to track the trajectory of its flight path,” Surge replied, brushing dirt and grass from his trousers briskly. “More than that, they were able to probe the navigational computer systems and get past the safeguards Torqa had installed. The pod was programmed with the Dezmodon's destination: Kenexa, a remote moon near Nanryr.”

  “There's nothing of value in that system,” I mused. “Just a bunch of plasma storms and deserted rocks. Why in the names of all the Succubi would Torqa be heading out there?”

  “I don't know,” Surge confessed.

  “Well, I suppose we'll have to find out for ourselves, then.” I turned to Judy. “Are you ready to go find your parents?”

  “Almost.” She looked down at her shawl ruefully. “First, I guess I'd better go back to my room for a change of clothes.”

  “You're learning well,” I said. “Come, I'll escort you. Surge, you prepare a ship for us and choose a crew.”

  Surge saluted, and then vanished into the shadows once more. For perhaps the thousandth time since I'd met him, I marveled at his stealth. I was a fierce warrior and capable of sneak attacks when they were required, but Surge was the most quietly lethal individual I'd ever encountered. I thanked the stars that he was on our side.

  I led Judy back to the stronghold, taking her up to her room. This time, if she had any difficulty ascending the stairs, she hid it extremely well. She was already getting tougher, more determined. The air around her was electric. There was color in her cheeks, and a fire in her eyes, like a Garsykyn Night-Lioness on the prowl for meat to feed her cubs.

  When we reached the top and stood in front of the door to her room, she turned to me. I felt my feelings, the urges that I’d been holding back, suddenly pour through me like blood from a ruptured artery, unstoppable. I had spent a lifetime priding myself on my self-control and discipline, and when I needed them most, they were nowhere to be found.

  Only need. Only lust. Only all consuming desire.

  Overcome, I seized Judy by the shoulders, kissing her. Normally, I prided myself on my strict self-discipline… this was the most impulsive thing I'd done in years, perhaps ever.

  There was a brief moment where her body stiffened with resistance. Then she relaxed, leaning into me.

  Her breath was sweet on my lips, like the heady, perfumed scent of the lilies from the garden. A strand of her blonde hair brushed lightly against my face, tickling me gently.

  Then the kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun, and we were looking into each other's eyes, confused, the space between us seeming to vibrate with uncertainty. We both wanted each other, that much was certain. We both felt the same desperate attraction. But these feelings were clouded by the issues at hand.

  How could she allow herself romance, when her mother and father were in the clutches of a madwoman?

  How could I allow myself to be distracted with such whims, when I had a duty to save them and protect Valkred from Torqa?

  I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “Select the outfit you wish, and let the palace servants know if there's anything else you require for the journey. I will be back to collect you momentarily.”

  I turned and left before she had the chance to reply.

  I was a warrior. There were important battles to be fought and won. And I had to exercise self-control, no matter how difficult that might be, in order to win them.

  7

  Judy

  It wasn't hard for me to figure out why Dhimurs had pulled away from the kiss after instigating it. He was worried about giving in to his feelings when there was an important mission to concentrate on – anyone could see that. To him, duty came before everything else.

  Still, the experience had left me extremely unsettled.

  I'd wanted him to kiss me. And once he'd started, I didn't want him to ever stop. I'd dreamed of it for so many years, waiting for him to come back to Macur some day and claim me for his own.

  So why did it have to happen under such horribly uncertain circumstances? Why did the specter of my parents' abduction have to stand between us, now that we'd found each other again? And why did Miranda have to tell me that Dhimurs and I were meant to be mates? Finding my own path through these confusing emotions was hard enough, but being informed that it might not even be my own path – that it might be the machinations of the universe working toward some predetermined end – was simply too much pressure for me to bear. It was as though the entire cosmos was on my shoulders, weighing me down with its expectations.

  On Macur, our tribe had had a shaman, just as most other tribes did. But his arcane insights had largely been limited to whether the rainy season might come early or late, or the patterns in which the cave trolls might migrate in the caverns underground. His simple predictions and advice were always taken seriously, but we knew that they mostly came from intuition, wisdom, experience, and being uniquely attuned to the rhythms of the planet, rather than any larger supernatural influence.

  Now that I was so many light-years from my adopted home, the galaxy seemed far larger and more mysterious than I could possibly have imagined. Lunian wizards, and humans who interpreted the very threads of the universe itself. I felt so small and adrift when confronted with such wonders, as though everything in my life was far beyond my control – a terrible feeling after being raised as a huntress of the N'kiiti tribe, where self-determination was all that stood between us and dying of thirst in the galactic desert.

  I desired Dhimurs, that much I couldn’t deny. But if I acted on that, I wanted it to be my decision, not some inescapable road laid out for me in advance by fate or destiny.

  Several years ago, I had reached the age when most female Macurians are bonded with the mates who won them through feats of strength. Ekaid and Lidea had wanted me to participate in the ceremony, but I declined. The truth was, I couldn't let go of my hope that Dhimurs and I would be reunited someday – I’d wanted to wait for him instead of settling for one of the Macurian tribesmen.

  If I had been born a Macurian, my adoptive parents might have insisted. These mating traditions were sacred to the Macurians (or at least, they had been… now I had no idea how many of them Torqa had left alive to continue on these rites). Their consummation ensured that there would be more tribe members to hunt creatures for food, build homes, and defend the villages in the rare event that another tribe decided to steal others' resources rather
than procuring their own.

  Not only that, but Ekaid and Lidea had even planned to encourage specific male scions from other tribes to try to win my hand – tribes we had previously had altercations with, some of which still bore us ill will. They felt that both parties would benefit from such a union and ensure generations of peace going forward.

  Even so, they respected my decision to wait. They knew how difficult it had been for me to find my place among an alien civilization, especially a primitive one like the Macurians. They’d encouraged me to find my own way in life, even if it sometimes meant deviating from the ways of the tribe. Plus, on some level, I suspected that Lidea knew what was in my heart – and that she, too, hoped my dream of Dhimurs' return would come true, so I could find happiness with him.

  Now that my wish to see him again had been fulfilled, part of me almost wished I had agreed to the mating ceremony and found a male from another tribe to wed. It would have been simpler to honor the wishes of my adoptive parents and fully embrace the life of a Macurian. It would have allowed me to feel like my destiny was my own.

  I shook my head. No. That was a foolish idea. If I had, my mate would surely have been butchered by Torqa, and I'd be mourning him along with the rest of my tribe. And there would always still be Dhimurs.

  Well, as frightened as I was by these concepts of fate and predestination, there was no time to ruminate on them. I had to get ready for the mission. I had to get my family back. Everything else would have to wait.

  There was a knock at the door, which startled me. Was Dhimurs back already? I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't even touched the comm panel next to the door to ask for things I'd need for the trip. For that matter, I was still wearing the damn shawl Dhimurs had told me to change out of.

  I answered the door and saw Khim waiting in the hallway. She was carrying a small box and wearing a dour expression.

  “Oh, I'm feeling perfectly fine now,” I told her, “but thank you for checking up on me!”