Beth and the Barbarian Page 9

  “J’Ssett, take her to Barrack W5. Make sure that everyone knows she is under my protection.” The implied threat in his voice sent shivers up her spine but it also restored some of her confidence. Who would dare to challenge this man?

  “And loan her your cloak again,” he added.

  Bowing respectfully, J’Ssett handed her the cloak. She clasped it at her throat. Afraid to look at Dragar and let him see the tears in her eyes, she followed the small alien down the long colonnade. As they passed through the shimmering veil, she couldn’t help turning. He was still watching her, his rigid figure highlighted against the glass before the veil concealed him.

  Chapter Ten

  J’Ssett led her back into the elevator. By the feeling in her stomach, they were going down this time. He courteously avoided looking at her as she fought to get the tears under control.

  “Where are you taking me?” Her voice was shaky.

  “To where the fighters are housed.”

  “Fighters? But I’m not a fighter.”

  He gave her a glance that would have been amused if it hadn’t been so respectful.

  “Thiss ssection of the sstation iss under the complete control of Lord Kievan. You will be protected.” The slight sibilance in his voice was curiously soothing.

  Before she could ask any more questions, the elevator stopped. They entered a corridor, clean and white but obviously utilitarian. The pressure on her senses wasn’t as heavy here but much more intense and she reeled. So much anger, so much pain.

  “Misss?” J’Ssett’s hand was beneath her elbow. She forced herself to breathe, slow steady breaths, until she regained her control.

  “I’m fine.”

  He gave her a worried look and didn’t remove his hand. Grateful for his support, she allowed him to escort her. The corridor turned right and they stopped before a massive gate. Two extremely large aliens stood in front of it. They were humanoid but with heavy, wrinkled, grey skin and tusks curling from their mouths. They leered at her but before they could say anything, J’Ssett spoke.

  “I am escorting thiss lady. She iss under the personal protection of Kievan Rus.”

  Both men flinched and dropped their eyes. One hurried to open the gate and they passed through. As they did, she noticed that the guards had massive wings furled against their backs.

  Twice more, the process was repeated. Beth was starting to feel distinctly uneasy, although the emotions that surrounded her now were more focused and easier to handle. Was she being sent to jail?

  “Is this a prison?”

  “Not exactly.”

  That wasn’t particularly reassuring but before she could demand additional information, they passed through the last gate and into a corridor lined with barred doors.

  “It is a prison.” She accused J’Ssett.

  “No. These are the warrior barrackss. The sseparate rooms are to prevent fighting.” He hesitated. “However, my masster has requessted that you share a room.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? I’m not going to share a room with a dangerous warrior.”

  She tried to pull away but the hand at her elbow was unexpectedly firm.

  “It iss for your own protection.”

  Beth was starting to panic but she couldn’t free her arm. She was about to aim for J’Ssett’s scrawny little throat when he opened one of the doors and pushed her gently through. A tall figure rose from the bed. Beth’s pulse was racing and it didn’t slow down when she realized that the figure was a woman. A Sardoran woman.

  “What have you brought me J’Ssett?” She had a pleasant voice, low and amused.

  “A female under my masster’s protection. He requessts that you take care of her. He will reduce the rounds owed by one if you accept. Do I have your vow?”

  The woman scanned Beth’s trembling body and laughed.

  “I can certainly see why she might need my protection. Very well. You have my vow.”

  “Thank you.” He turned to Beth. “You will be ssafe, misss. I will come for you tomorrow.” He bowed his head and disappeared before she could respond. The woman had returned to her bed and Beth avoided looking at her as she surveyed her surroundings. The room was quite large and surprisingly nice for a barrack—or a prison cell. Everything was white and spotlessly clean. Two beds sat in opposite corners, with a table and chairs in the third corner. A narrow partition separated the back half of the room with a door centered in the partition.

  Finally gathering up her courage, she turned to face the Sardoran woman, only to find her studying Beth with evident amusement.

  The woman was strikingly attractive, her warm skin halfway between Kievan’s gold and Dragar’s charcoal. She was dressed in leather pants and a tight leather halter that laced between small breasts. Every inch of exposed skin—and there was a lot of exposed skin—was toned and muscular. She wasn’t bulky but she had a lean strength that made Beth feel extremely small and soft.

  “I assume you’re not here to fight?”

  “Fight? No, of course not.” The woman wanted to fight with her? There was no way she could hold her off. She began to back away.

  The woman laughed. Her voice was higher than Dragar’s but it had the same rumbling quality and for some reason Beth relaxed. As she did, she realized that she couldn’t feel any hostility coming from her new roommate and she managed a smile.

  “Let’s try that again. Why are you here?” the woman asked.

  “I’m waiting for a Claiming Ceremony. Kievan Rus said I would be safe here.”

  The woman’s brows shot up. “A Claiming Ceremony? With a Sardoran male? You?”

  She surveyed Beth and Beth blushed.

  “Have the Elders relented so much?” the woman asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The woman hesitated. “Claiming Ceremonies are only performed between two Sardorans. You are obviously not Sardoran.”

  “I don’t understand. Kievan Rus insisted on the Ceremony.”

  “Did he?” She arched a brow. “Interesting. I wonder what game he is playing.”

  “You mean we can’t really be mated?” Beth tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

  “It’s not quite that straightforward. A Sardoran has already taken a human mate.”

  “Jakkar and Anna?” Relief flooded through her. “I heard about them.”

  “The Elders haven’t officially recognized the claim. They haven’t denied it, either, since Jakkar is a hero to our people. I’m not sure that they would be so tolerant to another warrior.”

  The sinking feeling was back. Beth looked at the other woman. She was studying her closely but didn’t seem angry or offended.

  “Does it bother you that I’m not Sardoran?”

  “Not particularly. I haven’t always kept to my own race either.” She winked at Beth’s startled look but then her face sobered. “But I am concerned about your size. Have you already—”

  “Already what?” The woman wasn’t listening. She walked over to Beth, leaned down and sniffed. Beth was getting really tired of people smelling her.

  “What are you doing?”

  The woman returned to her bed looking thoughtful.

  “So you haven’t. Are you sure about this? You’re awfully small.”

  “What difference does that make? Oh.” Beth blushed again as she finally realized what the woman meant. “How do you know we haven’t already had…sex?”

  “Because if he had released his seed inside of you, I would be able to detect the mating bond.”

  “What?”

  “When a warrior releases his seed inside a woman he has claimed, he changes her scent. We call it the mating bond.”

  Beth didn’t think her face could get any redder. Did the whole world have to know about her love life? Her knees felt rubbery and she lowered herself onto the other bed.

  “So Kievan knew that, too?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  Beth thought back over the time on the ship and
blushed. “But he did release his, uhh, seed inside of me, in a way. Does that mean he hasn’t really claimed me?”

  The woman looked amused again. “To be more precise, he has to release his seed inside your woman’s part. But if you have already taken his seed elsewhere, then you know his size.”

  Could this get any more embarrassing? She managed to nod.

  “And you are not afraid?”

  “A little,” she finally admitted. “But I want him, all of him.”

  “But the two of you haven’t mated?”

  “He doesn’t want to hurt me.”

  The woman’s brows arched again. “He must be unusually considerate for a warrior. Usually they just take what they want unless you can convince them otherwise.”

  She scowled down at the floor for long minute while Beth wondered what she was remembering. Finally, the other woman shook her head and looked back up.

  “So what is the name of this oh so considerate warrior?”

  “Dragar, of Clan Leijona.” She could hear the pride in her voice.

  The woman’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Beth.

  “Dragar the Scarred? Dragar the Fierce? Dragar the Outcast?”

  “He isn’t an Outcast any longer. And he shouldn’t have been one to begin with. He is the most honorable person I know and your stupid planet doesn’t deserve him.”

  The woman snarled at her words but Beth didn’t care. If the woman took offense, it was too damn bad. She tensed, preparing to defend herself but the woman finally relaxed.

  “I can see why he is attracted to you, little sister.”

  “Sister?”

  “Of course. I am Rianen, also of Clan Leijona. When the Claiming Ceremony is performed, you will become part of my clan.”

  Part of the clan? Dragar hadn’t mentioned that. “I’m Beth.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Beth.”

  Rianen cocked her head at a sound that Beth couldn’t detect. “The lights will be dimmed soon. If you wish to use the san, do so now.” She gestured at the door in the partition.

  When Beth returned, Rianen was lying on her bed with her eyes closed. Beth climbed into the other just as the lights went out.

  “Sleep well, little sister. We will talk more tomorrow.”

  When Beth woke the next morning, she opened her eyes to see Rianen sitting cross-legged on the other bed and smiling at her.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  She actually had slept well. While she had awoken several times during the night, knowing the other woman was there had been surprisingly comforting. It also helped to have Dragar’s shirt; it made her feel close to him.

  She smiled at Rianen and stepped out of bed. The other woman’s eyes widened and Beth looked down anxiously, afraid that she was somehow indecent.

  “Goddess, you’re small.”

  “You said that last night.” She scowled at the other woman. She knew she was small. Why did everyone have to keep pointing it out?

  “Last night you were still wearing that.” Rianen pointed at the discarded cloak. “Are you sure that you’re ready for Dragar?”

  “Oh my god. You’re as bad as he is. Women’s bodies are designed to handle men’s bodies. And Dragar may be big but he’s not as big as a baby and we can handle those, too.”

  Laughing, Rianen held up her hand. “Peace, little warrior.” She looked speculatively at Beth. “How big?”

  “Oh, my god.” Beth stomped off to the san. She couldn’t handle this first thing in the morning.

  When she returned, Rianen was noticeably subdued.

  “I’m sorry, little sister. Sardoran women often discuss these things. I did not mean to offend you.”

  Beth sighed and sat back on her cot. “Earth women do, too. Or at least I think they do. I never had a close girl friend.”

  “You have one now.” Beth felt her eyes fill at the quiet words.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. The women smiled at each other.

  “So how big is he?” Rianen asked.

  Beth threw her pillow at her.

  A guard appeared shortly thereafter, entering the cell to set two trays on the table. He eyed Beth with open curiosity but when he tried to approach her, Rianen immediately stepped in front of him.

  “Back off, Omazz. She is under the protection of Kievan Rus.” The man paled and backed away.

  Rianen sighed as he left the cell.

  “Damn. I was almost hoping he would push it. I could use a good fight.”

  The women sat down to eat. Aside from the inevitable mug of cafir, there was a bowl of some type of fruit, and what could almost have been pancakes. It was all tasty and there was a lot of it. Once Beth satisfied her initial hunger, she eyed the other woman curiously.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I owe Kievan Rus. He helped my squad out of a bad situation and I agreed to fight for him.” She scowled at the room. “But he doesn’t like me so he’s making me wait.”

  “Fight for him?”

  “Yes, in the pits.”

  “The what?”

  “The fight pits. It’s one of his chief sources of income. People pay to watch, and of course they bet and he holds the stakes.”

  The room wavered around Beth. “Is that what Dragar agreed to when he said three rounds?” She could hardly get the words out.

  “Yes. I owed him two but, thanks to you, now it’s only one.” She grinned cheerfully at Beth.

  “You agreed to fight?”

  “Well, of course, that’s what a warrior does. And I’m damn good. Also, Kievan’s fights are fair. He always pits you against someone evenly matched.”

  Beth clenched the table. “But Dragar…”

  “Why are you worried?” Rianen tilted her head. “Despite his past, he’s the strongest warrior I have ever seen.”

  She tried to nod. She knew he was good; she had seen him fight. But she had also seen his scars. The idea of Dragar wounded made her stomach knot so hard she was afraid she would be sick.

  “Little sister.” Rianen’s voice was stern. “Look at me. This may be hard for you but you must never let him see this worry. You showed pride in him last night. You must always show him that pride.”

  Beth nodded as the words penetrated. She knew only too well that streak of uncertainty he carried. He would be hurt if she didn’t believe in his strength.

  “You’re right. Thank you for telling me.”

  They finished their breakfast in silence.

  Chapter Eleven

  After breakfast, Beth asked Rianen to tell her more about Sardor and Sardoran ways. She wanted to understand Dragar.

  The world that Rianen described was in many ways utterly alien. The Sardorans were a harsh violent race, beyond anything that Beth had ever encountered in her sheltered life. And yet, they had a sense of pride, of history that she could understand. She also envied the close ties between families and clan members. Hearing Rianen call her little sister had filled her with unexpected warmth.

  “Can you tell me about the Claiming Ceremony?” she asked, feeling a sudden burst of shyness.

  “The ceremony is performed at sunset so I assume it will be at the beginning of night shift since there isn’t technically any sun on a space station.”

  Beth nodded. “Kievan said tonight.”

  “On Sardor the ceremony is always performed outside, but obviously that won’t work. I’m sure Kievan will come up with something. It might even be appropriate.”

  “And then?”

  “A close female relative usually accompanies the woman to the Claiming Circle. Traditionally, every warrior present makes a blood offering to the Goddess.” She frowned. “Again this is usually done using a ceremonial bowl but I doubt that will be part of this ceremony.”

  “Go on.” The idea of a blood offering made Beth queasy but at least they didn’t want her blood.

  “The couple exchange vows.”

  “Vows, what kind of vows?” she interrupted.
<
br />   “Whatever you feel. Whatever you want to say.” Rianen waved her hand casually, ignoring the look of panic Beth could feel spreading across her face. She had no idea what to say. I love you, my big alien didn’t exactly sound right. Wait a minute, love? The feeling settled into her bones with absolute surety. Of course she loved him. She had probably loved him before they had even met. A smile spread across her face as she tried to focus her attention back on Rianen.

  “Then he gives you your mating cuffs,” Rianen continued. “But he probably won’t be able to make those here.”

  “Will that matter?”

  “No. They are just symbols. Normally he would give you the clan mark also but he probably doesn’t have the marking device, either.”

  “Clan mark? You mean that huge tattoo on his back?”

  “It’s the same pattern but it’s much smaller. With the device it’s instantaneous.”

  “Do you have a clan mark?”

  “Of course.” Rianen turned her back and Beth could see the intricate design on her shoulders. She recognized some of the elements from Dragar’s mark but this was smaller and more refined. It also seemed to be incomplete.

  “Is it finished?” she asked cautiously. She didn’t want to offend the other woman.

  Rianen raised her brows. “You can tell that it is incomplete? If I am ever claimed, my mate will finish the design. Since I am a warrior, he will do it the traditional way.”

  “Traditional way?”

  “With a needle and ink, just as this was done. The marking device is only used for non-warriors.”

  The idea of Dragar marking her was curiously appealing but she knew he would never do it. He would be much too worried about hurting her.

  “Is that the entire ceremony?”

  “Yes, these days the exchange of vows is really all there is to it—well, except for a lot of hard-drinking and a big party afterward.”

  Beth was getting that uneasy feeling in her stomach again.

  “Kievan specifically said the full traditional ceremony. What does that mean?”