The Dracons' Woman (9 page)

For a little while they all sat at the table, eating quietly.  Garen decided it was a good time to broach a subject that might be upsetting, but needed to be discussed.

“Lariah,” he began, keeping his tone conversational, “what actually happened at the spaceport yesterday?  Did you know that security guard, or why he tried to abduct you?”

Lariah shrugged, but didn’t look unduly upset by the question.  “No,” she replied easily, “he never said a word to me, and I’d never seen him before in my life.”

Garen frowned.  “It seems strange that he didn’t say anything to you.  What did he do, exactly?” 

“He walked straight toward me, staring at me the whole time.  That seemed odd, but I didn’t think too much of it because he was wearing a security uniform.  When he got close to me I could see he looked pale and sweaty, and I realized something wasn’t right.  By then, it was too late.  He grabbed hold of my arm and took off with me.  I couldn’t yell,” she paused here a moment.  “I have a problem with my voice,” she explained quickly, then shrugged as though it wasn’t important.  “I tried, but I couldn’t break his grip.  Nobody paid attention to me, I suppose because he was a security guard.  He would have taken me out of the spaceport if that other man hadn’t stopped him.” 

“It bothers me that he went straight for you as soon as you stepped off the shuttle,” Garen said.  “According to the steward that reported the incident, he never even hesitated before grabbing you.  You were fairly well disguised with the black hair and bulky clothing.  I wonder if he knew who you were and, if so, how he recognized you.”

Lariah shrugged again, unwilling to discuss the subject of her disguise.  “Perhaps he didn’t.  Maybe he just saw a woman alone and grabbed her.  Maybe it wasn’t me, specifically, that he was after.”  Even as she said it, Lariah knew that it didn’t feel right.  The man had been scared, and that raised a suspicion in her mind that she wasn’t ready to think about, let alone discuss.  Which, for no reason that she could comprehend, made her feel guilty.

“Has he been caught yet?” she asked, not certain she really wanted to know, but fairly sure that she needed to know.  She didn’t want to constantly have to worry about him showing up again.  She had enough worries of that sort as it was.

Garen hesitated, but one look at Lariah’s steady gaze and he knew he had to give her the truth.  “He was detained at the skyport to be held until Spaceport Security arrived to take custody of him and bring him back here so that we could question him.  By the time Security got there, he was gone.  His escape, or release, is still under investigation.  All we know for certain at this time is that he did not return to Jasan.”

Lariah shivered.  She didn’t want to be afraid any more, but she couldn’t ignore the implications.  If the security guard had targeted her specifically, and she was almost certain that he had, then someone had leaked not only her destination, but her disguise as well.  But Jasan was hundreds of light-years from Earth, nearly at the opposite edge of known space.  Could Loggia’s power stretch so far? 

“Do not worry,” Garen said.  “You are safe with us.’

Lariah looked into Garen’s golden eyes, and nodded.  She believed him.  She simply could not imagine anyone getting past the Dracon brothers.

Lariah looked down at her plate and realized that she couldn’t eat another bite.  She pushed the plate away and reached for her glass, taking an experimental sip, then drinking deeply.  She wasn’t sure what it was, but it tasted a lot like lemonade and was very good.

“Why do you not finish your food?” Trey asked, looking as though he was considering picking up her fork and feeding her himself. 

“I would love to,” Lariah said, meaning it.  “The food is delicious.  My stomach just can’t hold any more.”

“Well, rest a minute,” Val suggested. “Then maybe you can eat some more.”

Lariah lifted a brow at him but said nothing.  It was clear they were only concerned for her so she didn’t see any reason to argue about it.

“Your hair is quite unusual,” Garen said casually, trying to keep the conversation light.

Lariah blushed, one hand automatically reaching up toward her head before she stopped it and lowered it back to the table.  “I know it’s old-fashioned to have such long hair,” she said as though she were apologizing for it.  “My Mom always liked me to wear it long.  I haven’t really cut it since she died.”

As one, Garen, Trey and Val put down their forks and placed their closed fists over their hearts, bowing their heads solemnly for a long moment.  Lariah was completely nonplussed.  When Garen lifted his head the startled expression on her face caused him to smile ruefully.

“My apologies,” he said.  “In our culture, when one suffers a deep emotional loss, such as you have with your Mother, we believe it is better to show our respect for their feelings rather than utter platitudes which, we believe, make the situation more difficult.  The placing of one’s closed fist over one’s heart indicates acknowledgement of a deep personal loss, without requiring a verbal response.  In essence, it means,
my heart hurts for your heart
."

Lariah was touched by their simple, yet deeply meaningful gesture.  “Thank you,” she whispered softly, fighting to hold back tears. 

Garen remained silent, giving Lariah a few minutes to compose herself. 

“By the way, I did not mean my comment on your hair as a criticism,” he said when her eyes were once again clear.  “I think your hair is exceptionally beautiful, as you are.  What I meant was the color of it.  I have never seen hair two distinct colors like yours before.”

Lariah blushed again at the compliments.  “I know, it’s different,” she agreed easily, pretending she didn’t know her face was bright red.  “My mother told me that her mother had hair the same as mine.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her why she had been hiding her glorious hair beneath a wig, but he didn’t.  She had already displayed an unwillingness to discuss that topic, and they had all agreed not to push her.  They wanted her trust, but they would have to earn it.  They could not force it from her.

“Lariah, what do you know of Jasan?” Trey asked, changing the subject.

Lariah fiddled with her glass, taking a moment to think before answering.  She thought there was something a little too casual about his question.

“I know you have an agrarian-livestock economy,” she replied carefully.  “I know you have no heavy industry and that you limit certain technologies.  I know there are no big cities and that, as a people, you don’t talk much about yourselves.”  Lariah stopped there, not really sure what they were fishing for.

“What do you know of our culture?” Val asked. “Our customs concerning relationships between men and women in particular.

Lariah blushed, and set her glass down on the table.  “I know that there are few women here,” she said, hedging a little.

“You arrived on a shuttle with many contract brides,” Garen pointed out.  “Is that why you came here?”

“No,” she replied honestly.  “I came here because I know there is a sanctuary on this planet for women.  A place where they are protected.”  She hesitated a moment, as though she wanted to say more, then bit her lip and remained silent.

“Why do you need a sanctuary Lariah?” Val asked.

Lariah’s face paled.  She shrugged one shoulder, a half-hearted attempt to indicate it was not important.  But she kept her eyes on the table in front of her and did not answer the question. 

Garen decided that was not a good line of questioning at this time, and shook his head at Val.  Lariah appeared to be worrying about something else entirely.  Garen considered her for a minute.

“Lariah,” he began, “there is something bothering you.  We ask that you tell us what it is.  Perhaps we can help.”

Lariah hesitated, picked up her glass, then put it down again without drinking from it.  Finally, as though coming to some inner decision, she took a breath and looked up at Garen.  “A couple of things,” she admitted.  “When you asked if I came here for the reason the brides came here, the answer I gave you was true, but at the same time, not.  I came here for sanctuary.  But I also have always…” she hesitated, blushed even redder than before, and groaned with frustration.  “I have always been…intrigued by your culture,” she said finally, hoping they could read between the lines because honestly, she simply could not say it more clearly or she would die of embarrassment. 

“The idea of yourself with three men excites you,” Val said.

Lariah sighed with relief, wondering why she couldn’t have said it that simply herself.  “Yes,” she admitted.  “It’s not why I came here, but I feel it would be less than honest not to tell you I have thought about it.”

“We are very glad it excites you Lariah,” Garen said. “For us it is normal, the natural way of things for our people.  We realize of course that three men and one woman together in a relationship is not considered usual for humans.  In truth, many women who come here as brides are unable to accept that necessary fact of our species, and end up leaving as a result.”

Lariah frowned.  “I don’t understand that,” she said.  “I have seen the contract bride information from many planets, including Jasan.  What I read made it perfectly clear that a woman who contracts as a bride on Jasan will be entering a marriage with three brothers.”

“We try very hard to be clear on that issue particularly,” Garen said.  “Many human women believe it is a life-style choice, and that, once they are here, they will be able to convince one of the males to change his ways and marry her without his brothers.  But it is not a life-style choice for us.  It is a part of the biology of our species.”  Garen sighed.  “It is difficult for a male-set to believe they will have a mate, and then to lose her because she cannot accept them for who and what they are.”

"I am sorry,” Lariah said softly, sympathy in her eyes. 

Garen was touched by her compassion for his people, but he did not want her to feel sad.

“It is better that they learn such things before the mating ritual,” he said.  “Though it is difficult, it is best for all involved.”

 “I suppose,” she replied.  Her expression changed from sad to curious.  “What is a
male-set
?” she asked.

Garen smiled, enjoying her curiosity, and pleased that she seemed so accepting of their ways. 
So far
, he reminded himself silently.  There was still much for her to learn, and it was more than likely that she would balk at some of it.

He realized that Lariah was still waiting for an answer to her question.  “I apologize,” he said.  “My mind wandered a bit.  We call male triplets a male-set,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said easily as she reached once more for her drink.

“There was something else you wanted to tell us,” Garen reminded her. 

Lariah sipped slowly from her glass before setting it back on the table.  “Yes,” she agreed.  “There is something else.”  She took a moment to study each of the brothers one at a time, a long searching look.  She shook her head a little when she was finished. 

“I don’t understand why I feel like I know you,” she said finally.  “It’s just so odd.  I know that Garen is the leader, the serious one, always thinking carefully before acting.  Trey is the impulsive one, quickest to anger, but also quickest to laugh.  Val is the quiet one, the most introspective and easy going. How can I know these things?  I barely know any of you.”

Garen raised an eyebrow.  “I thought I was the most easy going,” he quipped.  Trey barked a laugh as Val shook his head.  “And I thought I was the funny one,” he added.

Lariah rolled her eyes dramatically.  “Did I say any of you were funny?” she asked archly.  “I don’t think so.”

They laughed at her and for a moment she basked in the warm feeling of belonging that enveloped her.  And that, in itself, was confusing.  “I seem to always know which of you is which, without having to even see you.  I know if it is Val who just left a room, or Trey who touches my shoulder from behind.  I can sense you somehow.  How is that possible?  I just don’t understand it.”

Garen got up from the table and walked around to stand beside her.  He held out his hand.  “Come Lariah,” he said, “let’s go into the other room and get comfortable.  Then we will explain as best we can.”

Lariah put her hand in his and looked up at him, her eyes hopeful.  “You mean that there is a reason for this?”

“Yes,” replied, “there is a reason.”

Standing, Lariah let Garen guide her out of the dining room and into the living room, over to a large sofa with big fluffy cushions where he sat down, pulling her gently down beside him.  When he had her settled into his side, Trey sat at the other end of the sofa and pulled her bare feet up into his lap.  He began to stroke her ankles with light, soothing motions as Val settled himself on the floor facing her, his hand resting lightly against her hip.

She couldn’t help but think that she should feel surrounded, closed in, overwhelmed by the three large men always touching her, holding her, placing their bodies close to her.  But she didn’t.  She felt safe, protected, cared for.  But again, that didn’t make sense.  She’d only known them for a day, which had to mean that she didn’t really know them at all.

Chapter 5