The Barbarian Prince (22 page)

With the three suns shining overhead, she expected it to be hotter than it was. The bright village sported a cool breeze. The evening hours, when the sky turned to a brilliant shade of blue dusk, were reserved for the more comfortable cotton pull-string pants and shirts. They provided protection from any night chill, which to Morrigan wasn’t much.

She adopted the more comfortable style immediately, having, at the queen’s insistence, ordered more gowns to befit her new station. To her disappointment, Ualan merely grunted sourly when he saw them and turned to seek his own bed.

She took her meals in the common hall along with the rest of the family. A high alert had been set on the kitchen and staff, so it was a little more stressful than usual when they gathered together. The men did not join them often, taking their meals wherever they practiced and strategized.

Morrigan missed Ualan more and more each passing hour. She wondered how, in a few short weeks, he had grown to be such an important part of her life. She ached for his wicked words that caused her to blush. Without him, she didn’t feel right inside. It was as if a piece of her soul went missing. It was a hollow, sick feeling.

Each night Ualan came back to the house, worn from training with his brothers, or whatever it was he did while he avoided her. He looked at her as if he was surprised to see that she was still there. Then, he would go to his dining table and pore over maps and charts until the wee hours of the morning. Morrigan peeked at them once, but couldn’t read the script or understand their meaning. Not once did he offer to explain them to her.

When she spoke to him, his responses were curt and his actions uniformly more so. He refused to tell her of his plans. Ualan never voluntarily talked, except once to ask after her health when she had a passing moment of dizziness and to make sure she was seeing the doctor for her daily check-ups.

Morrigan again found she was alone in their home, as she came back from shopping with the Queen. Pia invited her to spend the evening learning to defend herself and Morrigan readily agreed. Anything was better than being alone.

The Queen was only too happy with the plan and told Morrigan to get a dirk from her husband’s closet. Looking at the array of weaponry, she wasn’t sure which knife was the dirk. So, instead, she chose one for the prettiness of the hilt rather than the deadliness of the blade. Smiling, she strapped it to her cotton-covered waist.

If anything, thought Morrigan, I can learn to beat my husband into submission.

She grinned. The idea had real merit. She wondered if she could take him.

About to leave, Morrigan stopped. Reaching to the back of one of the shelves, she pulled out an old intergalactic communicator. Drawing the knife from her waist, she set it aside, before sitting on the floor. Next to her, buried beneath the skirt of one of her hanging gowns, was her bag from the Galaxy Bride’s ship.

Pulling the bag to her and unzipping it, she realized she hadn’t looked in her suitcase since arriving. It was surrealistic to see her clothes again. She pulled out a hooded sweatshirt, some socks and her underwear. Feeling nostalgic, she shook off her boots and slipped her feet into the socks. Before she realized it, she had changed her clothes completely. The bra felt different than the built in bustier of her Qurilixian shirts and her panties were oddly constricting to her hips.

Morrigan sighed, shivering and feeling suddenly very alone. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about it before. But now, alone in the closet, her insecurity would be held back no longer. If Ualan had grown tired of her would he tell her? Was he getting bored with her? Did he not desire her? Tears in her eyes, she sniffed. Now that she wasn’t a challenge, was the thrill gone?

Seeing her computer port, she checked its power. The lifecell lit up without a problem. Her article flashed open before her. With a click, the air screen floated up with the words she had written on the spacecraft. They begged for an ending.

Swallowing, she took up the communicator and stuck her adapter into it. The unit lit up showing that it still worked. With only minor hesitance, she hit the keys for her editor.

Click. Click.

Morrigan sighed, tense as the signal blinked. For a moment, she considered pulling the plug. But, by the time she moved to end the signal, it was too late.

"Rigan? Rigan?" came her editor’s gruff male voice. He seemed worried. "Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl! Come in. Rigan!"

Taking a deep breath, she uttered with a wry tone she could not so easily feel, "At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery."

* * * *

"My lord, your presence is requested in communications."

Ualan looked up from were he held his knife to a young soldier’s throat. Sighing, he tapped the soldier’s neck, indicating the kill shot. Standing, he nodded at Zoran before tossing the blade to him. Zoran caught it with one hand, barely blinking as he turned back around to watch a practice fight.

"What is it?" Ualan asked as they crossed from the practice yard into one of the palace’s secret tunnels. They walked several feet into the mountain, through the bare passageway, before loading onto an elevator. The young soldier pushed a button and they began to rise with lightening speed.

"Our sensors have picked up a communication signal, my lord."

"Who hails us?" Ualan asked, watching the metal door slide open. He was at the top of the mountain in a glass pyramid. From the bottom of the mountain and from space, the peak was camouflaged to look like the red rock. However, inside, it was as transparent as glass.

"No, my lord, it is one of our communicators," the soldier said. "The signal is trying to connect to the outer galaxy."

"Have any requests been made to call out?" Ualan asked. He knew he hadn’t approved any.

"No, my lord," said the soldier. He looked wearily at the tall Prince as he stepped aside to grab an earpiece.

"Whose signal is it?" Ualan asked.

The man gulped, almost shrinking. "It is yours, my lord."

"Signal connected, my lord," said another man in front of a floating screen. He touched it in the air, causing it to flicker and change.

Ualan’s heart beat dully. The last time he saw his communicator it was in his closet.

"Closed circuit," he ordered, hooking the earpiece to his ear. He threaded his hands behind his back, and looked up at the sky. Through the solar shielding on the panels, he could see an expanse of stars. He ignored them and he listened.

"Yes, my lord," the man said. "Intercepting now."

"Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl! Come in. Rigan!"

Ualan stiffened. His jaw was tight. He refused to move or show emotion in front of his men. Inside him, his stomach turned in on itself. His heart squeezed to a vicious stop. For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer. He hoped she wouldn’t. He was disappointed.

Clear as day, he heard her sultry voice answer, "At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery."

* * * *

Morrigan took a deep breath. She didn’t have to wait long.

"What the hell is going on, Rigan?" the man’s tone turned from concern to annoyance. "I send you to do an exclusive story on a royal family, not to get yourself married. I contacted Galaxy Brides and told them I was your uncle. They told me my niece was lucky enough to find a life mate--whatever the hell that means!"

Gus had been married thirteen times. He didn’t believe in life mates.

"Gus," began Morrigan, but his frustration wasn’t vented. She knew he was just blowing off steam. The man was worried about her, though he would be loath to admit it.

"What the hell happened? You got the breast enhancement, didn’t you? I told you not to do that!" Gus wheezed as if pain. "What they do? Carry you off into the sunset like some damned fairy tale?"

"Gus, this is no fairy tale," she interjected, thinking of her unfulfilled body that seemed to ache all the time, no matter what she was doing. Just sitting in the closet, surrounded by Ualan’s clothes made her body shiver and pulse with wicked thoughts.

"If anything," he said, as if he didn’t hear her, "you should have had them take your breasts off completely until your trip back."

"Take it easy. Grab a pill, Gus, you’re about to keel over."

"I’ll take it easy when you tell me what the hell is going on!" The words were followed by a fit of coughing.

Sighing, Morrigan lied, "I’ve got detained. It’s nothing, Gus, just a minor inconvenience."

It was easier than explaining that she was married and the guy wanted nothing to do with her. Not to mention more diplomatic to her bruised ego.

"You got something don’t you, girl!" exclaimed Gus. "I can practically smell the story in your voice. What is it? The virgin trading practice piece you were working on? Did they offer to fix you up?"

"No, they did not! Stop being lewd or I’ll hang up."

"Easy, girl," he coughed, hacking viciously. "What’s got your goat?"

"My goat, Gus? You haven’t been gambling with the Slayers in Valex Ten again, have you? I told you they are mind readers."

There was a long, silent pause. The communication reeked of guilt.

"Never mind," she uttered. "I don’t want to hear how you lost another wife to them in poker."

"She wanted to go," the man protested.

"Listen," Morrigan broke in before he could defend himself further. The old communicators were unstable sometimes and could disconnect at any moment. "I need a favor. I want you to look up the contract I signed with Galaxy Brides. See if they’ve altered it in any way." She paused. "And see if our galactic lawyers can find any loopholes in it."

"Loopholes?" said Gus, understanding dawning in his voice. "You did get married, didn’t you? I was just kidding about that. I never thought I would see the day you’d be leaving me, Rigan. Makes a man almost want to cry," gruffed Gus. He coughed, refusing to get too much more emotional. "I can tear up your contract if that’s what you’re asking me. No need for the lawyers. You just tell me you’re happy and I’ll mail the shreds to you myself." Another throat clearing. "That is after you get me that piece on those barbaric Princes."

"Damn it, Gus! Put your damned glass down and listen to me. The Galaxy Bride uploads are inaccurate. They’re tricking … they’re not right. It’s like someone just filled in the blanks with guesses."

"What do you mean?"

"I got married by accident. Galaxy Brides has the uploads all wrong, almost all the minute details are inaccurate."

"Do they now," Gus mused. "Now this could be interesting. What angle are you going for with it? Poor star reporter gets trapped? Or the evil greed behind intergalactic marriages--that corporations will do to save a few bucks?"

"Slow your wheels," she broke in. It was good to hear his voice, even if he was frustrating.

"So you’re not married?"

"Only technically by their laws. That is why I need you to get my contract. Use Harcy. He’s fast at retrieval. Tell him I’ll clear his Quazer poker debt if he does this for me."

"So, you’re not leaving the paper chip?"

"No," muttered Morrigan, "I am not leaving the chip."

"I knew it," exclaimed Gus. "I knew my top girl would never settle down. That is what makes you the best, Rigan. I’d kiss you if you were here! Now, about those Princes--"

"I’ll get you the story, Gus. You just do your job and get me the hell off this forsaken planet of barbarians."

"Will do, girl, will do!"

"Thanks." Morrigan began lifting her finger to end the transmission. His voice stopped her.

"Is he that bad?" There was a pause and a snicker. Morrigan rolled her eyes. Once she got back to the office she would never hear the end of this. "Your husband I mean?"

"He’s not my husband, Gus. He’s just a lead to a story." Her tone was dead and the lie left her hollow. It would be better not to think about it.

"Damn you’re cruel hearted. I always thought so, now I know. But, for now, why don’t you send me your pictures. I’ll expose them and get them ready for copy."

Morrigan froze. Closing her eyes, she lied, "The camera got broken. I’m trying to repair it but it might be unusable."

"What?! I should leave you there for that. Do you know how much I paid--?"

"Stow it, you owe me at least that. Besides the camera was ten years old and I bought it myself. Now come and get me you stubborn--"

"I’m on it," he answered, sternly. "Call me back in two days. Can you have the story by then?"

"Sure," she mumbled. "Oh, and Gus?"

"Sure, girl, what is it?" His words were soft.

"I’m never taking another assignment like this again."

Morrigan hit the button, breaking the communication. Her heart trembled and she began to sob.

* * * *

Ualan handed the earpiece to the watching soldier. He had listened in silence to his wife’s voice. He was an inconvenience to her, a way to get her story. The Gods had indeed cursed him. Stiffly, he nodded at the awaiting soldiers.

"She called her uncle," he lied. "I will speak to her. She won’t be making unauthorized communications again."

"Yes, my lord," the men answered in unison, taking the Prince at his word.

* * * *

Morrigan was drunk. No, that wasn’t true. She had hit drunk and surpassed it about and hour ago. Stumbling back to the liquor cabinet, she studied the line of remaining bottles. It was hard to see them in the dim firelight. Opened containers spread about her on the floor and table. Glasses were lined up with strangely mixed concoctions swirling beneath their rims.

Taking a particularly attractive purple bottle, she stuck it beneath her arm and grabbed an ugly red one to go with it. Stumbling back to a clearing within the field of half-drunk glasses, she slumped to the floor. Taking her last clean cup, she pulled the cork from the purple and poured. Then, capping it, she studied the red, blinking heavily. Twisting the cap, the red soon joined the purple. It clumped like mud but she was too far gone to care.

"This should be pretty," she mused drunkenly, swirling the mixture together and gulping it back. It wasn’t. Morrigan spit the contents back into her cup with a gag. She was surprised she could still taste after so much boozing.