Homecoming (8 page)

Rihlia wanted children. He hid a small, pleased smile. He’d love to start on that project, if only she would let him. He’d wanted a family for years now, and the idea of a small son warmed his heart. Not that he’d shun a daughter, but all men dreamed of a son.

“Let me introduce you,” he offered. He knew several of the parents there, and it was a good way for Rihlia to start making connections.

She looked at him uncertainly, and then glanced at Jasmine.

Jasmine shooed them off. “I’m resting. Have fun.”

Jayems hesitated and led Rihlia off. When they were out of earshot, he looked at Rihlia questioningly.

“Don’t take it personally,” she advised him. “You wouldn’t think it, but Jas can be shy around strangers.”

“No, I wouldn’t think it,” he said dryly, remembering how much cheek Jasmine had shown that first night. They came abreast of one of the fathers, a captain under Keilor’s command. “Jiaral. May I introduce my companion, Lady Rihlia?”

Jiaral made his bow, a slight lowering of the head for several seconds. His chin length hair swung free with the movement, temporarily hiding the fresh laser burn along his left cheek. “My pleasure,” he said in his heavy county accent.

“Oh, what happened to your cheek?” Rihlia said with concern. “Have you seen a doctor?”

Jiaral frowned. “A doctor? Oh, you mean a medic? No need. It will be mostly gone by tomorrow.”

She blinked, but held her tongue. Jayems knew she was unused to people healing as quickly as she did. Even broken bones healed in a matter of two weeks. Jiaral would think nothing of such a piddling training accident.

A small boy crashed into Jiaral’s legs, throwing him off balance and causing him to laugh. He couldn’t have been more than four. “Easy, Mot. What’s the rush?”

“Dai, Dai! Mai said we could have tarts when we were done. Are we done, Dai?”

Jiaral chuckled. “Rascal. We haven’t been here five minutes, and I have company.

Be polite and greet Lord Jayems and his lady.”

Mot peeked up at them. “Hello,” he said uncertainly.

Rihlia grinned and squatted down to his level. “Hello. My name’s Wiley. I betcha I can run to the slide faster than you can.”

Mot’s eyes got big in excitement at the discovery of new playmate. “Last one there has to eat dirt!” He took off like a shot for the slide.

Jiaral laughed in surprise as the pair shot off, Rihlia carefully staying a stride behind. “She must enjoy children. Thank you. My wife is tired from staying up with the baby and wanted a nap. I promised not to come back for a least an hour.”

“You’re welcome, though Rihlia deserves the credit.”

“I thought she said her name was Wiley?” Jiaral looked his question. Surely he’d heard about the lady’s history by now. It was all over the Citadel.

“It takes time to adjust to new things,” Jayems said, leaving it at that. “How is your little daughter?”

Pleased to discuss his family, Jiaral related the baby’s latest achievements.

Jayems used the time to study his betrothed. She needed to play more. From all he’d gathered, it seemed as if she’d been robbed of her childhood. Watching her now, he saw the remnants of the wild little girl he’d once known playing with a little boy who could have easily been her son.

Jayems lowered his eyes and his smile was bittersweet. He was ready to grant some wishes.

* * * *

They walked past the gardens on their way back to the Citadel, and Wiley noticed a woman using a hand pump to fill a bucket. Since they were in the area of the family garden plots, she asked, “Why don’t you have hoses or something? I know you guys have electricity--some of your technology is ahead of Earth’s.”

Jayems smiled at her. “Would you like to spend your life in a factory, assembling electronic pumps? We only use technology for certain things, like pumping the water into our rooms and running our lights, or communication. Some of us still use candles and oil lamps, as well as pack our own water. The exercise is good for us, conserves resources and promotes a simpler, more relaxed way of life. You’ll notice that woman is using a wheeled cart to haul her bucket around? It has a spigot on the end, and a hose. If she were pregnant or infirm, she could still manage the chore with ease.”

“Hmm.” They’d stopped by a rich plot of freshly turned earth, perhaps as long and wide as a school bus. She’d always enjoyed tending her houseplants, and it might be fun to start a garden. “I think I’d like to have a garden, too. What do you think, Jas? Want to help?”

Jasmine shrugged. “Yeah, why not? It’d give us something to do around here.

Besides, it might be fun to grow one of those.” She pointed to a monster squash sitting in a neighboring plot. “We could see which of us could grow the biggest.”

Jaymes smiled. “We’ll see which plots are vacant and arrange it. I have a number of books on horticulture you may look at, or you can check some out of the Citadel library. The master gardener would be happy to introduce you to a tutor; he loves to meet others with a love for the soil.”

Wiley thought about the rarely used kitchen in Jayems’ rooms. It had a large pantry, mostly empty. “Is that what you’re supposed to be doing with that huge pantry in the kitchen? Storing vegetables? Where would we keep all the potatoes and stuff, though?”

He looked faintly embarrassed. “I don’t have the time to grow and preserve my own produce, though we are educated on the importance of agriculture all our lives. If you don’t know how to prepare food for storage, I can make the time to show you. Each garden also has cellar space available.”

“You know how to can jelly?” Jasmine asked dubiously.

Jaymes’ cheeks turned bronze. “We’re taught in school,” he muttered. “It’s not hard.”

Wiley smiled. She liked this side of him, an embarrassed school boy. “Cool.

Assuming we can actually grow something besides weeds.”

“Speak for yourself. I am a gardener extraordinaire.” Jasmine put her hand on her chest and struck a pose.

“Hah! The only thing you manage to grow is mold on the leftovers in the fridge,”

Wiley retorted.

“And beauties they are,” Jasmine agreed, walking on. She was oblivious to the women in a far corner who looked at her, then turned to each other and whispered.

Wiley wasn’t. She frowned and glanced at Jayems.

He let Jasmine get ahead of them, out of earshot, before he said quietly, “She is a human and a Sylph. Don’t you see the way the men look at her? Many women won’t like that.”

Wiley had noticed the unusual attention men showed Jasmine, but had put it down to curiosity. Word had gotten around that she was an alien, after all. Heads turned everywhere she went. No matter how keen the interest was, no one dared to approach her, not with four Haunt guards shadowing her every move.

A daydreamer, Jasmine never quite focused on the world around her, never noticed the attention or the danger.

For once, Wiley was glad. Jasmine would hate it if she realized what was going on. “Send her home.”

“To what? You said she’d be alone there.”

She hated it when he was reasonable.

“She can do as she likes here … she can be with you. I see the way you look after her--she’s a bit of a dreamer. She doesn’t even notice the way men look at her, and I think Keilor would miss her.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re making that up. He’d get over her leaving in about two minutes.”

He smiled. “Less, right now. I’ve known him all his life. He’s looking at her the way I’ve never seen him do with another woman, though he doesn’t realize it yet. He’s going to fall in love.”

She shivered at the way he said it, with fondness and pleasure. He truly wanted his friend to be happy. Unable to bear this tender side of him any longer, she lengthened her stride and caught up to Jasmine. “Come on, Jas. I’m ready for a snack.”

“Come on, Wi. This will work. It has to.” Jasmine was pleading now.

Wiley closed her eyes and groaned silently. Jasmine wanted to go home, and she couldn’t blame her. This latest scheme was so far fetched, it was laughable. Oh, she believed they could get Jayems and maybe Keilor into a poker game. Jayems had been very agreeable all afternoon. She had a feeling he’d welcome any kind of overture from her.

Bribing the Haunt guards with their ill gotten gains was idiotic, however. The product of a desperate mind.

The sad thing was, she was going to go along with it. Oh, she fully intended to talk some sense into Jasmine later. She had a feeling that it wouldn’t be hard. Not only was Jasmine afraid of the Haunt, she hated looking stupid. Once she calmed down, she’d realize that was exactly what she’d look like if she tried to bribe one of Jayems’ hand picked soldiers to take them to the gate. It was never going to happen.

Crazy or not, she found herself in Jayems’ rooms late that afternoon, setting up a poker game. Jasmine had found a way to persuade the men to bet money against their worthless markers.

“We wager with real money while you use snails?” Jayems asked with a scowl, pulling out a chair.

“What are we supposed to wager, our virtue?” Jasmine retorted, getting up to grab a glass of juice.

She didn’t see Keilor’s expression as entered the room, but Wiley did. Jasmine might have hesitated if she’d seen the rawness of his gaze. He looked like a man who’d been pushed too far, and was ready to snap at the bait.

Worse, Wiley had
not
known Jasmine was going to say that. She had a feeling that Jasmine was making it up as she went along, and screwing it up, too.

Jayems looked at Wiley out of the corner of his eye.

Her eyes narrowed. “Forget it.” She was not participating in this lunacy.

“I don’t know, I think the idea has merit,” he answered smoothly.

“You would.” His naughty smile made her uneasy. He’d never openly flirted with her before. Was he stepping up his campaign?

Keilor acted unconcerned as he took a seat. “If I’m going to be playing with real coin against shells, I’d have to agree with Jayems. We should at least get a kiss if we win the game.”

“No!” Rihlia said it forcefully, but nobody was listening. She wasn’t willing to kiss Jayems for a plan that wasn’t going to work, anyway.

Jasmine hesitated, and then said, “No tongues.”

“Jasmine!” Wiley cried. She couldn’t believe Jas was going through with this.

Eyes narrowed like a tiger contemplating a stray doe, Keilor bargained, “If you sit on our laps while delivering it.”

Wiley slapped a hand on the table, embarrassed. “Stop it, you two!” She was

ignored.

Cupping her chin in thought, Jasmine ran a thumb over her lips. “Gold coin for every shell.”

Keilor smiled wickedly. “I’ll give you two for every shell if you sit astride.”

That gave her pause. Her eyes flickered as she looked down. Maybe she hadn’t thought about the actual consequences until that moment.

Wiley had pictured nothing but. She was in a sweat just thinking about it. “Don’t you dare,” she warned Jasmine, breaking the tense silence.

“
Oda ouya aveha anothera away ota etga oneyma orfa ibingbra ehta aurdsga, Wi
?”
Do you have another way to get money for bribing the guards?
Jasmine asked casually and then added in English, “Don’t be a baby, Wiley. It’s just a little kiss.” Even as she said it, she blushed.

Wiley had about five seconds in which to object.

Jasmine shot her a pleading look.

Growling in disgust, Wiley slouched in her chair. She’d beat Jasmine for this later.

“The winner gets the pot, the losers take a shot,” Jasmine told them and then explained the rules.

Wiley shuffled the cards in nervous silence. They had better slaughter the guys in this game, because she couldn’t handle kissing Jayems more than once or twice. Her face heated at the thought, but she kept her eyes on the cards and refused to look at Jayems.

Predictably, the women won the first few hands, pulling in money by the fistful.

Wiley had just begun to relax when Jayems laid down his first winning hand. She blinked, but the cards didn’t change.

Slow color flooded her cheeks. Jayems pushed his chair back and laced his hands together over his stomach, a warm flame of anticipation in his eyes.