Courting Kel (4 page)

“Tempting as that offer is, I can’t. You’ll come to no harm,
I promise. Come, now.”

Gulping, she let him lead her. Playing the dolt and keeping
her eyes downcast might ensure her safety.

Coward
, Basalia whispered in Kel’s mind, the memory
of her mother’s voice lending her courage.
Despite
, Kel thought
ruefully, the disparaging term
coward
.

Yes. But I’ll survive to fight free—to escape—another day
,
Kel thought.
That’s how you raised me. To fight to my death if I must.

But by all the gods, the enormous room seemed filled with
men. Hundreds. Thousands, perhaps. All shifting around, their voices low, now
sounding like a swarm of a wasps.

“You’re late.” The words thundered over the suddenly quiet
space.

“Yes, Majesty. Lest you seem to favor me above your other
subjects, I came in with them.”

“A clever lie. Take your seat so we can begin.”

“Yes, Majesty.” Whispering, he warned Kel to keep her head
down no matter what he said.

Slouching to hide her height, she nodded, but clutched his
warm hand.

“Good.”

“Tak,” she whispered back.

“Who is that?” the king bellowed.

“A servant, Majesty. It is time for her to learn about The
Choosing.”

Bristling at being called a servant, she tried to jerk her
hand away. Aren squeezed her fingers, warning her not to react. “Sit at my
feet, girl. From there you can see most of what happens.”

She sat facing the men, her bowed head nearly touching her
drawn-up knees. That voice—Storr’s, she guessed—boomed again. “She’ll not see
much except the floor.”

Kel raised her head a little and heard a satisfied grunt.

“Bring in the princesses.”

Kel nearly jumped out of her skin. Behind her, Aren
explained, “The princesses always get to look first.”

“L-look?” Kel echoed.

“So should you.”

She sat a little straighter and peeked. The center of the
room stood empty. Those men who’d been there now formed a half circle around the
space. Catching swirls of color flowing over the inlaid parquetry floor, she
lifted her head. The princesses’ colorful trains had caught her attention.
Looking up, she gasped but could not look away. Each man had exposed his cock
and balls. And as she passed, each princess stroked him. Some cocks needed no
encouragement but stood out like axe handles or flagpoles. Those the princesses
paused to caress more fully or leaned down to sniff before moving on to the
next already erect or growing cock. Scents of arousal—male and female—made Kel
dizzy.

“How many are there?”

“Princesses? Thirty-nine. Men…around five hundred. But there
are a hundred or more women waiting for the princesses to finish.”

“Still not enough to go around.”

“Not if the women claim two or more men.”

Kel lost her voice and fought to stay upright. On Amazonia,
even innocents took it all in. The size of every cock and how it compared to
its brethren and what effect each woman—princess or not—had on it. Kel kept her
head still but lowered her gaze to her sandals. She had no idea why their
display disturbed her but it did. Maybe because she now knew exactly what would
happen between them later. Or, more likely, because she wanted to return to
Aren’s arms and recapture the bliss they’d shared.

Storr’s voice boomed out again. “Before you make your
choices, ladies, you must view my son’s and nephew’s spears. Aren, Tage,
present yourselves.”

Kel straightened and half turned toward Aren. Before she
could say a word, he pulled her up to stand beside him.

“I shan’t participate this year, Majesty. Or any year hence.
I have taken a wife.”

“Impossible! You see before you the only women worthy of
you. Thirty-nine this year but—”

“The fortieth princess stands at my side. The proof of our
marriage is on this sheet.” Pulling it from under his arm, Aren held up the
blood-spotted material for the entire assembly to inspect. Kel buried her face
in her hands and groaned, knowing it was her virgin’s blood that made the
stains.

“Come here,” Storr commanded.

“Tage will testify to my bride’s virginity. Since all the
princesses he transported were inspected during the voyage, he knows the
thirty-nine were no longer innocent. Your own physicians verified her virginity
when she first boarded
The Herald
.” Aren towed her to Storr’s side.

Wife? I cannot be his wife! I won’t be wife to any man!
In her mind, marriage equaled slavery. She knew warriors sometimes took
permanent mates and even seemed content with the arrangement. But Kel had not
expected it for herself. She didn’t want it! Especially not here, where men
held the upper hand. The Choosing was a sham—a trick. The women Tage
transported were duped into thinking they were free. But what would happen the
first time they refused their mate? If Aren’s high-handed treatment of her was
any indication, all the women could expect was… She couldn’t imagine how men
here punished. On Amazonia, women withheld mating or sought pleasure elsewhere.
Here? She ground her teeth, keeping her rising anger hidden from Aren’s too
discerning gaze. And what was all that guanshit about being examined? If that
had happened, she must have been unconscious at the time—another reason not to
trust Ondricans to respect a woman’s body!

“Tage! Why didn’t you inspect this woman yourself?”

“I feared for my…personal wealth.”

Kel looked up in time to see Tage blush to the roots of his
blond hair. To give the devil his due, he met Storr’s fury with a steady glare
of his own. But she wanted to laugh at his description of his cock and balls,
especially since he’d willingly put himself on display.

“We’ll discuss this later. In the meantime, Tage, present
yourself.” Under his breath, Storr added, “As if he needs another introduction
to these women.”

Chapter Four

Fascinated, Kel watched and listened while Tage committed
himself to a solid fortnight of mating. The process could have taken longer,
except the princesses agreed to share him. Three at a time, with one day off
between the weeks for him to recover fully.

“You could have saved me,” Tage complained good-naturedly to
Aren when the royal women left to examine other potential mates. “Taken some of
them to bed.”

“You’ll enjoy it like a pig in a mud bath,” Aren teased
back. “Moreover, by the time the princesses are done with you, the others will
have paired off and you can rest on your laurels. Besides, I’m a married man.”

Kel had sat silent for what seemed like hours. She refused
to acknowledge their marriage, but she couldn’t ignore
share
. “Share?
What does that mean?”

“With only one hundred-forty women, give or take one or two,
there are many more men than women,” Tage told her.

“And?”

“The men share the women.”

Aren clarified. “Since the women choose the man, sharing is
her choice, not theirs.”

Kel stood and stretched. Glaring at Aren, she said, “You
mean I could choose another two or three men as my mates? And you would have no
say?”

“No,” Aren said immediately. “Virgins belong to the man who
first—”

Tage butted in again. “The conditions—the contract the
brides sign contains a clause that affirms they are in good health, able to
bear children and are not virgins.”

“Why—?”

“Virgins require courting. The men often have been without a
woman for months. Some for years—”

“No wonder their cocks rise at the females’ approach.”

As if to prove their need, several trios raced from the
room, the women leading the men by their erections.

“The first couplings occur in private. Later, if the women
wish to partner with other men…” Tage shrugged.

“They feast together,” Aren said.

“Feast? You mean they have an orgy, don’t you? And why are
you suddenly treating me as if I’m no older than Drew? I know you mean they
mate—”

“Fuck,” Aren said.

“With everyone else,” Kel finished.

The men glanced at each other. “Yes,” they both said.

A female page approached. To Kel, the girl looked only a little
older than Drew. Kel frowned at Aren then turned to scold Tage. His flirtatious
smile and wink changed her mind. Instead, before either man could defend
himself, she jabbed her elbows into their hard-fleshed abs.

“What is it, Kira?” Aren asked.

“Storr wants to see you and Tage in his chambers. The
female, too.”

Aren caught Kel’s fist before she coldcocked the page—child
or not. Baring her teeth, she felt mollified when the girl backed away.

“Come along, Flame. Storr rages when he is kept waiting.”

Your king knows nothing about rages. I was raised by the
queen of rages
, Kel thought. But she let Aren lead her away.

And heard the whispers that followed them. “Lucky girl.”
“Aren and Tage together?” “She’ll not walk for a week or more.” “I’ve heard
stories of their stamina.” “Lucky girl.”

What did those women think? That because she left with both
men, they would both mate her? Is that what Aren and Tage expected? And what
about Storr? If he thought she would…he had another think due him.

By the time they reached Storr’s quarters, Kel was about to
explode. Getting her first full look at the king, she stumbled to a halt. All
the people she’d seen on Ondrican were fair—almost white-blond. Looking at Aren
and Storr, she knew how Aren was so certain he knew his father.

“Remove your cloak,” the dark-haired, black-eyed man
demanded, his voice less bellicose than it had been in the throne room. In
truth, he sounded almost cordial. Except for the parentheses around his mouth
and streaks of gray at his temples, he was Aren’s twin. Even at his age, his
shoulders mirrored his son’s, his height and physique magnificent. But she
disliked his attitude. She met his glare with her own.

“Deal with the woman.” He addressed the order to Aren.

“I believe
my wife
is waiting for your greeting,
Majesty. And
please
would help your cause as well.”

A battle of glares ensued. At length, Storr shrugged and
gestured Kel forward. “Welcome to Ondrican. Please remove your cloak. Sit,
share a glass of winale with us.” Startling her, he took her cloak himself then
swore, long and louder by the second.

“Tage, take this woman back to where you found her,” Storr
demanded, fury in his voice.

“I can’t, Majesty. I don’t know where she came aboard
The
Herald
. Moreover, only her husband can banish her.”

“Which I refuse to do,” Aren said, circling Kel’s shoulders.

“You intend to keep this…” Storr waved his hands, obviously
unable to find a word to express his displeasure with her.

“Yes, Majesty.”

“Guard yourself well, son. If she doesn’t kill you, she’ll relieve
you of your
personal wealth
.” Repeating Tage’s earlier words, Storr
sneered at him as well.

Kel laughed. All three men stared at her as if she’d lost
her mind. “The elders still tell tales of you, Storr. Not by name, of course,
and never within my mother’s hearing. But the elders smile and sigh and seem to
miss you.”

“Your mother, the one female on your gods-blasted homeworld
who neither smiles nor sighs.”

“And misses you not at all.” She shot him a
so there!
grin. Knowing a few tales he might not wish his son and nephew to hear gave her
the courage to stand up to him. At least for now.

“Why?” Tage asked.

“It’s unimportant,” Storr roared.

“A small matter of rape,” Kel said then sighed. “Attempted
rape. He—your father, Aren—was stopped before he could rape my mother. Who was
only sixteen at the time.”

“Woman enough to tease a man to frenzy,” Storr muttered.
“And she had her revenge, trying to geld me.”

Kel chuckled. “How many women saved you, Storr?”

“I’ve forgotten.” When Kel laughed, he said, “Four or five.
They appreciated my cock and balls.”

As if suddenly realizing the importance of his father’s
actions, Aren said, “You and my wife’s mother never fucked?”

“Tak the gods, never! You think you might have fucked your
half-sister. I almost wish you had. Incest would banish—”

“Both of us.” Aren sounded both relieved and menacing. “So,
Father, will you accept our marriage?”

Looking far from accepting, Storr nodded.

“But I don’t,” Kel announced and watched their mouths gape.

“But,” Aren blustered, “I took your virginity. Our laws
decree we are man and mate.”

The poor man looked so dumfounded, Kel almost reconsidered
what she was about to say. Since returning to Amazonia was her sole goal, she
steeled her resolve. “I’m not a citizen of Ondrican, ergo your laws do not
apply to me.”

“When we wed—”

“There was no ceremony, Aren. On Amazonia, when a woman
takes a mate permanently, there is a ceremony.”

“Followed by public fucking,” Storr interjected, making Kel
blush.

“I know now where Aren got his knowledge of my homeworld.”
Resentment tinged her voice. So much for her earlier bravado!

“Which will keep you from lying to my son.”

“I never lie.” Refusing to let him bully her, she canted her
chin in his direction, certain any sign of weakness would be her undoing.

“Even lies of omission?”

She glared at Storr then faced Aren. “You did not court me.”

“I seduced you. And you accepted—no, welcomed—my shaft.”

“I had no choice. You could have raped me. Not that you did,
but you could have. Had I not allowed our mating.” Knowing the excuse sounded
weak, she shut up and shrugged as if the matter were closed.

“Ondrican men…blast it!
Most
Ondrican men don’t
rape.”

Storr cleared his throat, effectively silencing the
argument. “We’ll settle this later. For now, we’ll eat like civilized people.”

Tage said, “If Your Majesty will excuse me, I have other
duties.”

“With a blonde, a brunette and a redhead,” Storr announced.
“Be wary of her, Tage. Women with even a touch of red hair are hellions.”

“As you know,” Kel mumbled loud enough for all to hear.

Laughing, Tage left.

For a long, uncomfortable moment they all looked everywhere
but at each other. Kel called upon her warrior’s training and held perfectly
still. She wanted to fidget. More, she wanted to run, but refused to let
cowardice claim her.

At last, surprising her, Storr pulled out a chair and
motioned her to it. Apparently approving of her acquiescence, Aren nodded as he
sat opposite her. Storr sat at the table’s head. Which seemed to signal some
unseen observer to begin serving the meal.

What kind of man was Aren that he didn’t sulk or glower when
she refused to acknowledge their marriage? He seemed no different than when
they left his palace. Was he afraid of Storr? She glanced at each in turn and saw
in them a deep affection for each other. Despite the king’s bellicose manner,
Aren did not fear him. Which meant—
treacherous man!
—Aren refused to
accept her refusal.

“If I recall, our foods are similar to yours, Keleos.”

“Your memory is clear, Storr. The foods are similar but
their preparation differs.”

“Not unpleasantly, I trust.”

He sounded so pleasant, looked so charming, Kel almost
forgave him for his earlier rudeness.
Almost.
Basalia had cautioned her
to beware of charming men.

“Kel is especially fond of sweetmeats,” Aren said, grinning
at her.

“So is Basalia. How is your mother?”

As if you care.
“Well, tak. Your wife, Majesty?”

“Died nearly twenty years ago.”

Kel looked at Aren and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

He nodded.

“She was ill for a long time. Her death was almost a
relief.” Storr sighed.

“Especially for her,” Aren said, forking a mouthful of
scrambled eggs into his mouth. He sounded carefree but his eyes said he still
mourned his mother.

As they finished eating, Kira appeared with a dewy pitcher.
“The winale, Majesty.”

“Good. Serve the lady first, Kira.”

Kel covered her glass. The girl’s sweet smile didn’t fool
her for a second.

Aren stared at her for a long moment. Holding out his own
glass, he said, “I’ll share with my wife.”

The girl poured. As she rounded the table to serve Storr,
she whispered to Kel, “I’ll not risk my life by poisoning the likes of you.”

Kel bared her teeth, satisfied when Kira blanched and backed
away.

When she’d gone, Storr raised his glass as if to toast them.
“I have reached a decision concerning your alleged marriage.”

“Father.”

“Hold your tongue, Aren, or I’ll have Kel cut it out.”

Grinning at Aren, she said, “Tak, Storr, but that isn’t the
part of his anatomy I want—”

“Aren will court you.”

“Father!”

“For how long?” Kel demanded.

Storr seem to consider the question but said quickly, “One
year.”

“One month.”

“You may already carry his child. Ten months.”

“Nine and not a day longer.”

“Done!” He grinned at her and Kel’s heart lightened. She
could bear staying as long as she knew she’d be released. Then he added, “Let
the courting begin. Take her home, Aren. Take her home.”

Her heart sank.

* * * * *

After they left, Storr retired to his bedchamber. Locking
the door, he said, “Vid.” A screen blinked on, filling an entire wall.
“Basalia.”

Kel’s mother’s face appeared. Although she looked eager for
news, she merely nodded, the briefest of her normally curt greetings. They
might be allies now but they would never be friends.

“Your daughter is as stubborn as you are.”

“She has refused Aren?”

“Not exactly. They have mated. She insists on going home.”

“You promised you would keep her, Storr. You prom—”

“This may be our only chance for peace on both our worlds.
Or at least to bring a modicum of happiness to our people. My men grow tired of
competing with each other for the women who agree to immigrate.”

“Yet they refuse to search for wives more frequently than
every five years.” Basalia’s sneer faded. “They seem content to continue
raiding Amazonia every few years.”

“Traditions die slowly. Your women seem equally content to
breed with my men and give up their sons.”

Basalia sighed. “They, too, grow restive, as if they yearn
for something better. More…lasting. I fear that given the opportunity, they
would gladly immigrate to Ondrican.”

“And my men would gladly immigrate to your world. Which
would solve both our problems.” He raked his hair.

“We could simply order our children to accept their
marriage. Tell them it’s critical to the survival of all our people.”

“I wish we’d thought of that sooner.”

“So do I but…” Her features softened, as if some tender
emotion had overwhelmed her.

“But?” he prompted gently, reluctant to return to bickering.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they fell in love?” She shook
her head then met his eyes, hers now clear of sentimentality. “We have set this
plan in motion. It’s too late to turn back now.”

Deciding to leave further doubts unvoiced, he said, “Nine
months. Since our children have mated and she might carry my grandson—”

“My granddaughter.”

“She’s agreed to stay nine months.”

“Good. But there is more, isn’t there?”

“Yes. I ordered Aren to court her.”

Basalia grimaced. “She won’t like your Ondrican way of
courting.”

Storr smiled. “If she’s half the woman you are, she’ll come
to love our ways.”

Sighing, Basalia murmured, “At least your matings are done
in private.”