The Skies of Mahdis Read online

  Trista grinned at him and let him lead her mount. He was obviously not ready to tell her anything more. Perhaps later she would be able to speak privately with him.

  By the time he'd shown her how to remove the saddle leathers and they'd brushed down their boggas, the camp had been prepared. Dinner was cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good.

  Q'winn picked out a stretch of sand and tossed down their packs. He told her to remain with them as he walked down to the fires, returning with a platter of fish and fruit for them to share. If it was odd that he sat apart with her and ate, no one remarked on it, or even seemed to notice.

  "Q'winn, the people in this company are the same ones from on the Anakin, aren't they?"

  "Yes. They are my troop. I am their kaden."

  "And their avaki?"

  "I am their kaden, first,” he said. He looked at her and his eyes lit with sudden understanding.

  "They do not care if I sit with you. They will not care that we will share our blankets tonight.” He grinned as her eyes widened and lowered his voice. “Don't you want to share your blanket with me tonight, Trista?"

  It was a good thing she was already sitting down. Her joints loosened. A pulse began to beat inside her. Her thighs grew wet. She couldn't look at him. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles in that soft way he had and the pulse soared.

  "Do not worry. That I see you fed is appropriate. To share the blankets with you tonight would be impossible,” he said softly. “I regret that."

  Trista looked at him. He was not teasing her now. He meant it.

  "I think I regret it, too, Q'winn."

  * * * *

  They reached the outpost of Yestarri mid-afternoon on the third day. The boggas were left behind in favor of the drost. Trista hated them on sight. It appeared to be mutual.

  Q'winn finally hushed the troop's hilarity over Trista's efforts to mount her beast. He motioned for one of the men to assist her. It was no use. The drost was so angry it bit the man.

  Q'winn gave in and pulled her up behind him. They'd lead the upset animal for a while and let it settle itself.

  Trista was glad of it. She'd not had opportunity to speak to Q'winn since the day they'd left Mahdis Keep. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on as the drost began walking.

  "Don't make me let go,” she said. “This ... this ... this—animal—doesn't like me either!"

  "It can sense your fear. If you will be calm, so will she.” He patted the hands clutching his shirt. “Rest your head on my back and see if you can sleep. I have noticed that you are tired."

  "No way. You'll let me fall off."

  "Now I'm insulted, Trista."

  Trista switched to Terran. “I haven't begun to insult you, you pig-headed, stubborn, egotistical man,” she snapped.

  "Damali is still almost three days from here.” He didn't comment on whatever insult she'd spat at him.

  "Oh joy. Three days of this. Hear my heart go pitter-patter.” She was still speaking Terran.

  "You are tired. You have not regained your strength since your illness.” He patted her hands again. “Try and rest. I don't want you to become ill again."

  Trista was tired. Her back and legs ached fiercely. She was hot and sweaty. She was dirty. Her clothes were dirty. The drost almost smelled better than she did.

  "Here.” Q'winn pulled a long cloth from his pack. “Put this over your head and shoulders. Then lay your head on my back and rest."

  She did as she was told, laying her head between Q'winn's shoulder blades. She could hear the slow steady beat of his heart. She started to cry.

  "Damn, I hate doing this,” she mumbled in Terran.

  Q'winn covered her hands with his and wisely rode on in silence. He turned the drost westward toward Damali.

  Ten

  The palace of Damali rose shimmering out of the desert heat in front of them. One moment there was nothing. The next, Damali stood bathed in the glow of the early evening sun. Trista could only stare.

  She'd seen pictures of such things on Earth. But a photograph would never, could never, capture the splendor of Damali.

  The entrance was carved out of one solid rock of granite. The smoothness of the entry arch and the towers flanking it faded into the rough natural stone. On either side of the massive stone, the palace walls were built of perfectly carved ivory granite blocks, each the same size, each sparkling in the sunlight. Each end block fit into a perfectly carved niche in the entry. Trista knew it must have taken generations to complete.

  To the north she could see lush green fields lined with mature trees. Q'winn had told her Damali had the only fresh water for miles and miles. To have trees that size indicated the water was reliable, and plentiful.

  A guard at the entry bowed to them and allowed them to enter without comment. Once inside the walls, they halted. Q'winn motioned for her to stay on her drost. He dismounted then helped her. She was grateful. She and the beast had not become friends.

  She was glad for Q'winn's support when she slid from her mount's back. Her legs felt like jelly and she would have fallen to the pavers if he'd not been holding her steady.

  Servants came rushing to assist them. Packs were hoisted and drost removed to the stables. A young man approached Q'winn and bowed.

  "Avaki H'akan,” he said with proper deference.

  "The Peace of Sioda be on you,” Q'winn replied formally, holding out his hand to the young man. “And I am Q'winn."

  "I am P'erre. I was Avaki S'ethan's aide."

  "I am in need of an aide, P'erre. And a bath."

  "Please, this way."

  "No. We have two females with us. They have endured in silence the inability to bathe on this journey. Please see to them first. I will see my troop settled."

  If that was odd, P'erre did not give any indication of it. Trista had all but given up hope of having all her questions answered. She had come to the realization more answers came by watching Q'winn than in talking with him.

  She expected Q'winn to walk away without explanation, but he surprised her again. He reached out his hand to her and pulled her to stand in front of P'erre.

  "This is Trista. She is new to the Cael and our ways. If she transgresses, it is not her fault. She is not to be punished. She is to be brought to me. Do you understand?"

  Regardless of what he was thinking, and Trista could tell from the way his eyes raked over her he was thinking plenty, P'erre nodded. She itched to say something to him, but Q'winn's grip on her wrist tightened in silent warning.

  P'erre was very polite, ushering Trista and Vanteen to their rooms. Once there, Vanteen insisted Trista bathe first while she found out what food was available. She didn't argue. She filled the tub to the rim with hot water and inched her way into it as fast as she could without getting scalded.

  She wanted to soak but knew Vanteen was just as eager to be clean as she was. She lathered and rinsed her hair three times before it felt clean, then turned her attention to the rest of her. She wondered if Q'winn would loan her a razor to shave her legs. Or maybe Vanteen could come up with one.

  Vanteen had come up with dinner. A quick trip to the kitchens had yielded fruit, cheese, a chunk of roasted meat, bread and wine. She helped herself to her portion while Trista finished her bath.

  Trista sat wrapped in the softest piece of toweling she'd ever felt and wolfed down her meal. After all the dried and dehydrated food on the trail, it was manna.

  She searched in a few drawers before she found the lighting tool for the lamps. She lit the first one and carried it into the bath for Vanteen. She almost dropped it.

  "You're pregnant!"

  "These things happen,” Vanteen replied casually.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "What say?"

  "I don't know. Who's the father?” Trista asked. It couldn't be W'eylin.

  "Is W'eylin, stupid girl."

  Trista refused to be insulted. Maybe W'eylin had been on the Anakin and she'd never seen him.
“Does he know?"

  "Yes. Is sorry. Not good thing."

  "Why? How? You're not the same species."

  "Is prob-lemm not same. We wait. We see."

  "What? What do you mean?"

  "What not understand, Trista? W'eylin Dannarri. Vanteen Okar.” Vanteen shook her head sadly, then looked at Trista.

  "When will you...?” Trista's voice trailed off.

  "Not much longer,” Vanteen confided. “Not take four seasons like Dannarri female."

  "And you came all this way? And W'eylin allowed it?"

  "W'eylin want near. W'eylin is problem."

  "What's that mean?” Trista asked, suspicions aroused.

  "W'eylin not happy."

  "About the baby?"

  "Smart girl very stupid. No. Not happy G'rasan,” Vanteen said. “G'rasan in troop."

  "Vanteen!” Trista's mouth dropped open again. Vanteen's face broke into a wide grin showing her sharp little teeth. Mischief sparkled in her cat-eyes.

  "Trista not worry. Vanteen has two to watch her. Trista have Q'winn. Is maybe equal."

  Trista tried to get her mouth to close. She wanted to ask how Vanteen was sure W'eylin was the father, but Vanteen had already called her stupid twice. She swallowed the question and accepted at face value that Vanteen should certainly know who'd gotten her pregnant.

  "You've got to tell Q'winn. Let him summon an herbalist,” Trista said firmly.

  Vanteen smoothed Trista's hair back from her face. “Nice girl to worry. Not need be. Vanteen has done before. Two daughters on Okar. Miss them. Want baby here. Trista not Okar. Not understand."

  "You're right. There's a lot I don't understand. And no one tells me. Are you really all right? No pain, no bleeding?"

  "Am fine. Maybe still little hungry.” Vanteen eyed the dinner tray. She slipped into her robe and reached for the remnants of their dinner.

  "Trista come sit. Vanteen tell way of world to young girl.” She started to nibble on a hunk of cheese.

  "I know the way of the world, Vanteen."

  "Sure. That why here when should be finding Q'winn,” Vanteen said haughtily.

  "And leave you alone—oh my God which one is coming here?"

  "Now thinking good. W'eylin come,” Vanteen admitted. “Tell truth to Trista. Only went G'rasan make W'eylin wake up. Not right. Did anyway. You dress. You pretty. Not want W'eylin see Trista like that,” she said looking Trista up and down.

  Trista had long ago given up trying to figure out Vanteen's thought processes. But Vanteen had brought into focus the fact that Dannarri males reacted like Terran ones in some things. And she'd suggested Trista should seek out Q'winn.

  As an avaki, Q'winn would not be willing to initiate contact within these closed walls. Or if he was willing, he may be unable. She would have to go to him.

  Their afternoon on the hillside was still very fresh in her memory. The thought of his arms around her again, his mouth on hers, was all she needed to make the decision to find him. She'd spent endless hours on the trek to Damali imagining a different ending to that afternoon.

  She'd also spent hours speculating on the effect their attraction to each other was having on Q'winn. She just didn't know enough to know what the Elders would actually do to him if he became involved with her and she knew he was not about to tell her. Difficult as it was, she would have to trust that he knew what to say to the Elders.

  She went back to the outer room and pulled on the long, flowing robe she'd brought to sleep in. It still smelled like the inside of her pack but her clothes had disappeared, taken by a woman who threatened to burn them instead of washing them. The robe was not the sort of thing she wanted to be observed wearing while walking the corridors, but she didn't have a choice.

  Vanteen picked up her fur cloak and handed it to her wordlessly. Trista was burning to ask which man had given it to Vanteen, but firmly clamped her jaw closed.

  Vanteen handed her a tiny, flat box. “Give Q'winn. He know what do."

  "What is it?” Trista asked her.

  "You want baby, too?"

  Trista took the box without another word. She wrapped the luxurious fur around her and went barefoot to find Q'winn.

  The halls were empty and silent. Small lamps sat on brackets lighting the way. They were spaced such that she walked from their glow, into darkness, and back into the glow of the next. She opened the door at the end of the passageway and stepped outside into a small courtyard.

  The courtyard featured a small fountain. The sound of the trickling water drifted to her on the cool air of the desert night. The pavers still held some of the heat of the day. Her feet were not cold as she skirted the edges of the area, trying to stay in the shadows as she listened for voices or some sound that would lead her to Q'winn.

  A small arch on the opposite side of the courtyard had a niche carved into it. A statue of Sioda sat there. The Believer's Chapel would be inside. Trista slipped through the arch.

  The Believer's Chapel was immediately to the right. No door protected the arched opening. Sioda's chapels were always open to all and all who entered were embraced. Trista had been to the chapel on the Anakin. It was Spartan compared to this one.

  The polished gold lamps were lit on the altar. Behind the altar was an intricate gold filigree screen. Plush tapestries graced the walls. The floor was of polished stone that reflected the lamplight. Thick cushions for the believers to kneel or sit upon were stacked neatly. Q'winn was there, refilling a lamp.

  Trista stood quietly and watched him. She knew that filling the lamps was a sacred duty, one the avakis performed at least once every day. The lamps were periodically checked by an acolyte and filled if necessary, but the avakis said the specific prayers daily.

  He glanced at her and acknowledged her presence, then continued at his task. When he was finished he grabbed two of the pillows and motioned for her to join him. She knelt beside him.

  He had bathed, too. His hair had not been trimmed recently and was a mass of unruly damp, black waves. Trista could smell the scent of his soap on his skin. He smelled of grass and musk. He'd shaved and she wanted to feel the smoothness of his cheek.

  She thought of why she was here and the pulse at her center flickered to life.

  "I prayed for a companion,” he said softly. “I asked out of loneliness, out of desperation. Now you are here and I hesitate."

  "Why were you lonely? You told me once avakis do not know females. I thought it meant one thing,” Trista admitted. “But it meant much more than avaki never take wives. I know that now.” Her heart was pounding. What if he said he didn't want her after all?

  "We serve the gods and our people. It is believed that one cannot devote oneself to that calling if one is distracted."

  "Am I a distraction?"

  "Most certainly, love,” he said with a touch of amusement. “You are a perplexing distraction."

  "Q'winn, tell me the truth. Are you ever going to take me home?"

  "Yes.” He turned and looked at her. “There is a war coming, Trista. Before that happens, I will take you home and you will be safe."

  "What war? What do you mean? You'd see me safe, but what about your safety?” His words panicked her. What war was coming? She pushed the fear aside. She could learn this later. Tonight she had come to him for something else entirely.

  He touched her cheek in that soft way he had.

  "I am a kaden. When the war comes, I will take my place on the Anakin."

  "You just sit there and say that like it's nothing more than a Sunday drive!"

  Q'winn shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “I don't understand the reference, but you are annoyed with me."

  "Damn right I am! You'd take me home and then come back here and fight and maybe die?"

  "I would endeavor not to meet Death."

  "You're closer than you think,” Trista muttered in Terran. Q'winn laughed softly.

  "Not that close, love,” he replied, also in Terran. He took her hand. His long finger
s closed over hers and his thumb stroked across her knuckles.

  "You did not seek me out to discuss the future. You are here to discus the now."

  "Yes.” She met his gaze. “If you're really going to take me home some day, then all we have is now."

  "Then tell me what it is you seek, in your now.” His voice was a mere whisper.

  "Don't you know?” She was bold enough to come to him but her courage failed at saying the words.

  "Yes.” His eyes were shadowed. He rose and went to one of the lamps along the wall, blowing it out. He came back and held his hand out to her. She looked up at him.

  "Why did you blow out that lamp?"

  "When an avaki serves in a place, a lamp is lit for him. It is the lamp he uses for meditations, for prayer. Any who come will see it out, and know that I have received an answer from Sioda."

  "Won't they ask what your answer is? Your question?"

  "No. That would be considered very rude."

  "Will you light it again?"

  Q'winn hesitated. “Perhaps in a few days.” He pulled her to her feet and gently embraced her. “Will you come to my rooms? Will you lay with me?"

  "Yes."

  Eleven

  Q'winn kept his arm around her as they walked quietly through the halls to his rooms. His acute hearing would alert them if someone else walked this passage. Keeping her body against his this time of night was only a small risk.

  He felt strangely peaceful about his decisions. He would take this step tonight, with Trista, and everything would change. He would no longer truly be avaki. As soon as another could be posted to Damali, he would return to Mahdis and he would assume the full duties of a kaden. His people would need every kaden in the coming years.

  When they returned to Mahdis, he corrected himself. From this moment on he would not be parted from the young woman beside him until he was forced to return her to her home world. They would need to remain discreet, but they would be together until then.

  His pulse spiked when he opened the door to his rooms for her. He saw her hesitate ever so slightly before she entered. He thought he understood. He hoped he did.