TICEES (14 page)

Chelan’s heart melted.

He held her hands firmly, his thumbs caressing her satin skin. “I will not challenge Korba, no matter what you two decide,” he conceded. He saw her take several deep breaths, and the tension in her features abated. He pulled her to him and held her tight, her slender body limp from emotional exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Chelan, I shouldn’t have asked so much of you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just that you don’t seem to understand something very important. I will never leave you, Fremma. No matter what happens between Korba and me. You are far too important to me, and I love you too deeply. But if I agree to the Let with you, then you are instantly and permanently lost to me.” She looked up at him. “If things had been different, if Korba had not returned …” She stared deeply into his loving eyes. “I would have Letted you any time. I say that with all my heart, Fremma. Please believe me.”

Fremma lay back against the pillows, taking her with him. He felt her trembling in his arms, and he looked down at the porcelain beauty wrapped about him, everything about her eliciting all his protectiveness and heightening his senses. His emotional burden finally lightened at hearing her sincerity and knowing her words were genuine. And he realized that it was better to have her some of the time than to live a life without any of her, or to die trying to force her to be his. “I’m yours,” he whispered, “whenever you desire me … forever.”

Chelan kissed his familiar lips. “I desire you always,” she breathed, and she slipped out of his arms and down his body.

Fremma moaned and released himself to her, tentatively hopeful about the future. Their lovemaking continued into the night as Fremma took her again and again, his appetite as insatiable as her own, until finally they were forced to sleep, the light of dawn upon their moist bodies.

*****

The hour of the Koll was looming, and with it would come Korba’s momentous announcement, the shockwave from which would surge throughout the Empire.

Korba had indeed been busy all day and night, but not totally with the Koll. The final details of the Earth mission had been worked through and the last-minute equipment checks made. In the late evening, three fighters were dispatched, and Korba watched them leave, a gleam in his eye and a weight lifted from his heart.

Chelan’s childhood rape would not go untried, and the man responsible would not go unscathed. Unknown to the primitives of Earth, one among them had brought upon himself the wrath of the galaxy’s Overlord. The man’s death would be swift, with no clues, no suspects, and no known motives. His body would remain where it fell, his throat cleanly slit. The investigators of Earth would be forever plagued with yet another unsolvable homicide. Korba smiled to himself. No one harmed his woman, and any who tried would meet a swift and merciless death.

In the morning, Korba slipped through his private security doors and into his hidden blue room. There he donned his dress uniform for the Koll and completed other final preparations. He had thought of going to his Lady, who was probably still asleep. But his sixth sense told him to avoid his chambers. He felt that not knowing if she was there for sure was better than the searing pain that would tear through his chest if he found her absent.

Korba had met Fremma working out in the main training area the morning before, and Korba knew that the warrior was now capable of taking Chelan up on her offer. Cautiously, and prudently, he decided to avoid any unnecessary confrontations by leaving immediately and overseeing the final arrangements pertaining to the Koll.

Dar, on the other hand, had arrived in the early evening to finish up the final security checks and to brief and prepare the extra men under Lazen’s command who would accompany Chelan upon her presentation. He had spent the morning hours in the Command Center and had noticed Chelan’s conspicuous absence. He wondered about Korba’s frame of mind in regards to Chelan and Fremma, but decided not to ask. Besides, he was having enough trouble dealing with his own feelings pertaining to the beautiful alien.

The fact that Chelan had likely been with Fremma throughout the night in an intimate manner didn’t bother him in the least. After all, if worse came to worst, Fremma was expendable, but Korba was not. Dar shook himself free of such treacherous thoughts and resumed his work, attacking it with a vengeance.

Then he stopped. He took a deep breath. What was he thinking? Chelan was not Iceanean and Korba would not, and could not, Let an alien. And even if Korba decided to defy all, that would put Chelan in mortal danger from the Guild, and Korba would not risk that. Clearing his mind, he realized there were no actual problems, so why conjure them? And with that, Dar pursued the remainder of his tasks with his mind and heart at ease.

*****

Chelan, however, awoke to a fright as Fremma loomed over her, fully dressed and heavily armed. “Come on, pretty woman. Korba begins his address to the Koll soon, and you still have work to do on your gown.”

Chelan rubbed her sleepy eyes and rose slowly, her body still coated with the products of their love. She shuffled to the edge of the bed, wincing, her muscles aching from their night-long marathon.

Fremma smiled at her stiffness. “Sore but satisfied, I see,” he chuckled. “Come along. A nice shower will work that out. It did for me.”

Chelan smiled up at him, blushing as she took his offered hand. He ushered her into the shower, and she was pleasantly soothed by its warmth.

Fremma leaned on the vanity and watched her languish in the streams of temperate water. “About the Koll,” he began. “I believe Korba told you about the number of people who will be attending, so I hope that will not be a shock?”

Chelan turned to him and smiled wryly. “Are you serious? Oh no, I will have no difficulty at all stepping out in front of seven hundred thousand critical, questioning, gawking Iceanean warriors. And, as a complete surprise to each and every one of them, a few select people aside.”

Fremma lowered his head and grinned. He had to admit she had a point. “Well, anyway,” he continued, “Korba will have told the assembly that he has an important guest attending him and that they should rise for your entry. They will already be aware that someone of great importance is to be expected simply by observing the number of empty seats next to him at the table.”

Chelan’s eyes remained fixed to Fremma as she washed herself slowly.

He continued. “Next to Korba, to his left will be three seats, one for you right next to him, one for Dar, and one for me. Normally when two Warlords participate in a mission they are seated together with the chief security commander of the hosting ship next to the quest Warlord. So, two seats are expected at this Koll. The third is not.

“When it is time, Dar will lead you in. He will be approximately three meters in front of you, and his job on this particular occasion will be to look for trouble, which we don’t expect.”

Fremma waited until Chelan nodded. He smiled reassuringly at her and then continued. “You will enter, flanked directly by Lazen and Yanis. They will be visibly and heavily armed. The visibility of the weapons will serve as an indication of your importance and status. Most guests ushered into any function where Warlords are present are done so with guards discreetly armed.”

Chelan took a deep, wavering breath as nervousness once again began to seep in. She put the cleansing bar down and stepped from the shower. Though the effects of the bar left her totally dry, Fremma immediately encased her in a large towel for warmth.

“Once you are through the doors, under Lazen’s control a large security contingent of my men will fan out and walk the perimeters of the hall and along behind you. But there is no reason for alarm.”

Chelan’s big brown eyes looked up at him questioningly, and Fremma smiled, his voice soft. “And I will be right behind you, my Lady, the whole way.”

Chelan smiled at last. Then she pressed into him, seeking his strength and reassurance. His arms surrounded her lovingly, and they lingered together, never wanting to part.

“I can’t tell you how much the past day has meant to me, Chelan. I will cherish the moments and the feelings a lifetime.”

Chelan looked up at him, her heart swelling. “As will I. But there will be plenty more days like that, my dear Fremma. Many more.” Their lips met in mutual caress, both feeling a need to come together, yet both knowing that now was not the time.

Fremma parted from her reluctantly. “Come, let’s get the gown finished.”

Chelan nodded and then stood still while Fremma brushed out her long, golden-brown hair. Then, she slipped into her white dress and set about the task of attaching the remaining few sequins. The last of the work did not take long, and when she was finished, Chelan stood and awaited Fremma’s guidance.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get you to the Command Center and get you dressed and ready.” Fremma took her new gown from her and folded it gently over his arm. Then he concealed it within his shroud.

She nodded to him and followed him quietly out into the corridor. More guards than Chelan had ever seen before snapped to attention, and her stomach churned as she followed Fremma to the Command Center entrance. The doors opened, and as they stepped through, Dar rose to meet them.

“Well, well,” he began. “The Lady has arrived.”

Chelan’s steps faltered. She had not expected to see Dar so soon, and she flushed with embarrassment.

Fremma proceeded down the steps toward the Warlord. “Commander,” he greeted warmly.

“Fremma, my good man, I’m glad and relieved to see that you are well again.”

The two men smiled as their right forearms locked in mutual respect. “I’m glad to be well,” Fremma replied, and then he turned to the still-stationary Chelan.

Dar beckoned to her, and finally she moved, not sure of what to say and do. When she reached them, Dar smiled at her, raised her soft hand to his lips and kissed it. Chelan glanced at Fremma, and then looked down, her cheeks coloring even more.

Dar placed a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “It’s okay, Chelan. Remember what I said about our ways working for or against you.”

“Am I that obvious?” she muttered anxiously.

“Yes,” he teased. “But that will change with time.” Dar threw a glance at Fremma. “And there is no need for embarrassment.”

But her unease was still apparent to both men, and Fremma signed to Dar out of her sight. Dar smiled and looked back at her. “If it will make you feel better, my Lady, as both Fremma and I are well aware of your inhibitions, no mention of this will ever be made to Korba.”

Chelan relaxed only marginally. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It is not that I regret anything that I have done,” her eyes flew anxiously to Fremma, “and I would do it again. It’s just that on Earth, none of this would be right. I know Korba will find out about it with time, and maybe he already knows. But I don’t want to flaunt it.”

“Don’t worry, Chelan,” assured Fremma softly. “It’s our secret for now.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. Fremma then grinned at Dar and nodded in his direction. “And of course, it is his secret also,” he added, causing Chelan to smile at last.

“Now, back to the Koll,” said Dar. “I know that Fremma has briefed you on the seating and on the entry and security. The only other thing to add is about the importance of the etiquette pertaining to the seating. You will be ushered to Korba’s side by Fremma and me. He and all the people will be standing before you enter, as a sign of respect from all of us. But sitting once you are by your chair is the important part, as timing is crucial to your status. Normally, the Warlord leading the mission sits first, and then the attending Warlord. If there is an important guest, then that person sits third, and then the hall sits. In this case, Korba will seat himself, and then you, my Lady, for you now supersede my status to him.”

Chelan swallowed, feeling a little uncomfortable with the whole arrangement. She didn’t want to supersede anyone, and her nervousness was returning with vigor.

Dar continued. “Then I will sit, and then the rest of the assembly.”

Chelan looked to Fremma and then to Dar, her anxiety heightening. Her relationship to Korba and their decision to have a child was once again invading her thoughts. Surely Korba would not expose her to the throngs of his people as his Letted mate. It was blatantly obvious to her that neither Fremma nor Dar expected such an announcement, but she felt the need to test her assumption out first.

“Just out of curiosity, is there ever a time when the important guest sits first?”

Dar and Fremma’s eyes met, both men instantly rendered uneasy by her query. “Yes,” said Fremma. “If the guest is a Letted mate of the Warlord, or if the woman is of high enough standing in the Iceanean culture that the Warlord intends on Letting her, then he seats her first. The only other situation in which that occurs is when the Lord God Emperor himself is present. Ticees always sits first, no matter who is in attendance.”

Chelan suppressed a shudder as she watched both men carefully. She forced a smile. “Well then, there will be no problem, will there? Your laws indicate that only pure Iceaneans approved by the Guild may be Letted, and I’m obviously not that.”