“Well.” Lissa took a deep breath. Rising, she shook out her dress and threw back her hair. With hands that trembled only a little, she buckled the shining mirror-mere dagger to her slender waist and then threw Saber a glance. “Let’s go.”
She made her way to the hatch of the ship and Saber followed, trying to keep his eyes on the ground instead of her luscious ass—a losing battle. He gave an inward sigh. This mission was going to be even more difficult than he’d imagined.
* * * * *
Lissa hooked the small purple cube that contained all her supplies and wardrobe over her arm and slapped the button to open the ship’s hatch. The sight of the barren landscape of rocks and raw, churned earth that greeted her was daunting but she didn’t let it stop her from marching down the steps and setting her feet firmly on the ground—ground which she promptly sank into up to her ankles.
“Oh!” she gasped and took a step back, out of the sucking mud. Unfortunately, it pulled the small, elegant satin slipper she’d been wearing right off her foot, putting her off balance. She pinwheeled her arms and would have fallen backward if Saber hadn’t caught her.
“Easy!” His strong hands on her bare shoulders felt warm and certain. The forbidden skin-to-skin contact made Lissa’s heart race.
“Thank you.” She straightened up hurriedly. Was it her imagination or did Saber’s hands linger on her skin before he finally released her? Just my imagination, surely, she told herself, her heart still pounding. He promised he wouldn’t touch me. He only steadied me to keep me from falling—that’s all. Carefully she pulled her other foot out of the sucking mud as well. She lost her other slipper but not her balance. Then she stood there, barefoot on the last step, and looked around.
“Well this is a Goddess damned mess,” Saber muttered behind her. “Now what?”
As if in answer to his question, a large male with a bald head and broad, bare shoulders came slogging around the side of the ship to stand in front of them.
“Oh, hello,” Lissa said uncertainly, taken aback.
“Little mistress,” he muttered, bowing deeply. “I am Llewelyn, body-slave to Lady Sha’rak the cultural ambassador of Yonnie Six.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I—” Lissa began but the slave ignored her and unrolled a long, thin metal parchment, which he held it out in front of him. Just as Lissa was wondering what in the universe he could be doing, the shiny surface of the metal flickered and an image of a beautiful woman who looked to be in her early forties appeared on it. She had silvery blonde hair with blue streaks in every shade from the palest powder blue to deep indigo running through it. The shimmering mass was swept up into an impossible swirl atop her head that looked like it must have taken hours to achieve.
“Lady R’awr? Can you hear me?” the woman on the parchment asked.
“I can.” Lissa leaned forward, being careful not to fall in the mud. “Um, thank you for coming to greet us,” she said.
“Think nothing of it, my dear. I greet all the new arrivals of distinction and rank.” Lady Sha’rak smiled in a friendly way. “So you’ve come all the way from Zetta Prime, have you? Is the purpose of your visit for business or pleasure?”
“Oh, pleasure of course,” Lissa answered quickly. “We, uh, I mean, I, simply wanted to see the sights of Opulex with my own eyes. I’ve heard how, um, how very beautiful it is all my life.” She hoped her lie wouldn’t be too apparent—honestly, as far as she could tell this was one of the ugliest places in the universe. But maybe the city itself was nicer once you got inside it—she hoped anyway.
“You have? Really?” The ambassador laughed. “Oh my poor, innocent dear. I’m afraid you have much to learn. But what we lack in beauty in Opulex, we certainly make up for in sensation. I’m sure you know what I mean.” She winked at Lissa who smiled weakly back.
“Um, of course,” she said uncertainly.
“I can see you have no idea. But that’s all right—you’ll soon find out.” Lady Sha’rak laughed again and then looked at Lissa more closely. “You know, I had some R’awrs in my own family tree—way back several generations ago. Do you think we might be related?”
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Lissa said cautiously. “I would certainly be honored if we were.”
“How sweet.” Lady Sha’rak nodded. “Well then, why don’t you come across the trench so I can greet you in person?”
“I’d love to,” Lissa said. “But, well…how? I just took a single step in the mud and it sucked off both my shoes. I’m not sure I’ll be fit to be seen if I have to go much farther.”
“Have your body-slave carry you, of course.” The ambassador sounded a touch impatient. “My man, Llewelyn can provide him with mud-waders. He’ll lead you to the trench crossing and bring you safely to my home. Don’t worry,” she added, perhaps seeing the uncertain look on Lissa’s face. “He’s trustworthy, even without a leash—I’ve had him since I was sixteen.”
“Oh…of course.” Lissa nodded. “I, uh, wasn’t worried about that.” What she’d been worried about was being carried in Saber’s arms. But there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it at the moment.
“Well, you should be.” Lady Sha’rak’s indigo eyes widened. “After all, we all know what filthy beasts males can be if not properly trained and controlled.” Her eyes flicked to Saber, standing protectively behind Lissa. “Speaking of which, that brute of yours is positively huge. I assume he’s thoroughly broken?”
“Of course.” Reaching behind her, Lissa grabbed the black leather leash attached to Saber’s collar. “He’s um, completely in control. I mean,” she went on hastily. “I am in complete control of him. He’s not a threat.”
“Well…” Ambassador Sha’rak frowned hesitantly. “All right. If you say so. I just can’t have any unbroken males in my house.”
Behind her, Lissa could hear a faint, barely noticeable growl coming from her kinsman’s throat. She hoped the Yonnite Ambassador couldn’t hear it. “Saber is completely trained, I assure you,” she said, giving a tiny tug on the leash. Abruptly, the growling stopped.
“Very well.” Lady Sha’rak nodded regally. “You may come. I’ll see you in my house at ten past the hour exactly. Oh, and don’t worry about your shoes, my dear. We can always get you another pair.”
She nodded once more and the metal parchment went suddenly blank. Lady Sha’rak’s body-slave, Llewelyn, stowed the parchment in the pack on his back and pulled out a pair of oversized, high black boots which he thrust at Saber.
“Put them on. Next transport leaves in ten,” he grunted.
Saber took the boots stiffly and pulled them on over his own. When he was finished, he stood up and stepped down into the mud. “Now where?” he asked the body-slave.
“This way.” Llewelyn jerked his bald, gleaming head. “Bring your mistress and keep up. If we’re late, my lady will give me the pain-taste. I don’t fucking like that.”
“Of course.” Saber turned to her and held out his arms. “Mistress?” he murmured, gazing up at her.
Lissa looked at him uncertainly but the taciturn Llewelyn was already slogging through the mud, yards ahead of them. There was no time to be squeamish or embarrassed. Not if they wanted to get to the ambassador’s house on time. Mutely, she leaned forward, allowing Saber to scoop her into his arms.
He held her carefully, like a baby, as he made his way through the squelching mud. For her part, Lissa tried to stay stiff in his arms and to keep their contact to a minimum. It was exhausting to be so rigid—it would have been much easier to just let herself melt against him and relax but Lissa was afraid to do that. Afraid of what Saber might think of her and afraid of the feelings that might rise and drown her if she allowed herself even the tiniest bit of flexibility. So she did her best impression of a stiff, inflexible stick as he carried her until they reached the side of an enormous trench.
“Oh,” Lissa murmured in awe. The trench was more like a canyon—its crumbling, lipless mouth gaping hungr
ily in a vast yawn that threatened to swallow them whole with one misstep.
“This way,” Llewelyn muttered, jerking his head. “In here.”
Lissa looked where he was pointing and her stomach dropped down to her toes. “In here,” appeared to refer to a small cart with two long seats—one in front and one in the back. They were separated by a narrow metal tongue which divided the topless cart into two compartments—neither of which looked safe.
Even more dangerous appearing, however, was the track the cart ran on. It was a thin, spindly bridge that looked no more substantial than a spider web as it crossed the cavernous trench.
“In here,” Llewelyn repeated impatiently. “My lady is expecting you, mistress.”
“Oh. Of course.” Lissa nodded. “But…are you quite certain it’s safe?”
“'Course it is. Travelers to the city always come this way. We don’t lose more than two or three a cycle.”
“Really?” Lissa felt her throat get tighter. She had never much minded heights on First World—there, near the holy mountain which was the center of the Goddess’s power, she was able to manipulate the sand to bear her up so she didn’t need to fear falling. Here, however, she was far from her power source. She doubted she could lift a single grain of dirt from the ground, let alone summon enough to provide a cushion if they fell into the ominous trench.
“Nah, not really.” Llewelyn’s grim face broke into a smile. “That was a joke.”
“Not a very funny one.” Saber, who had clearly picked up on her fear, scowled at the other male. “If you frighten my mistress with your talk, you’ll have me to answer to. Is the cart safe or not?”
“Perfectly safe,” the body-slave muttered sullenly. “There’s a force field all around it to cushion any blows and keep it from collapsing. They just make it seem dangerous to discourage anyone who isn’t serious about coming into the city.”
“Well, we’re serious. Very serious.” Lissa took a deep breath. “So let’s get in.”
“Very well.” Saber was still frowning but he settled her carefully in the front of the cart. Then, after stripping off the muddy boots and giving them back to Llewelyn, he climbed in the compartment behind her.
“Hey, that’s where I ride,” the body-slave complained. “There’s only one cart. Unless you want me to sit with your mistress?” He raised his eyebrows at Saber who shook his head quickly.
“Of course not.” He moved up to sit behind Lissa who was forced to get as close to the front edge of the metal cart as she could. It wasn’t very comfortable because the cart was small and Saber was large. She could feel the heat of his big body branding her mostly-bare back. With a flash of embarrassment, she hoped he wasn’t looking at the nonexistent back of her dress.
“All right now.” Llewelyn climbed in behind them and did something to a set of recessed buttons on the side of the cart. “Hang on,” he muttered. “It’s a bumpy ride.”
Lissa gripped the metal edge of the cart, feeling it bite into her hands roughly. The metal was chipped and peeling, sharp enough to cut flesh in some places, but she didn’t care. She wanted something to hold on to if she had to cross this vast divide. You could hold on to Saber, whispered a little voice in her head. Even though he promised not to touch you, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.
Yes, but Lissa would mind. Sternly, she told herself to keep her grip on the cart and not be a coward. I’ll just look straight ahead and it will be over in no t—
Suddenly, with a squealing of rusty hinges, the cart jolted forward over the thin, spindly bridge and she had to bite back a gasp. Oh Goddess, they were actually going to do this! They were actually going to roll across the yawning void with nothing between them and death but a cobweb-thin bridge and a rickety cart.
“Close your eyes if you want,” Llewelyn said from behind them. “The view doesn’t get any better.”
Lissa wanted to close her eyes but somehow she just couldn’t. They were rolling out across the trench now and her eyes were glued to its steep sides. Don’t look down, she commanded herself as she tried to measure the distance between the cart and the far end of the trench. Whatever you do, just don’t look down.
To distract herself from the awful temptation of staring into the abyss, she tried to concentrate on other things. There wasn’t much to see in the murky half-light of Yonnie Six and there was nothing to listen to but the squeal of the cart’s wheels and the soft, even sound of Saber’s breathing behind her. But there was something else—something Lissa hadn’t expected. A smell—a warm, delicious scent seemed to be rising up out of the cavernous trench. It was almost indescribable—like a mixture of fresh baked bread, exotic spices, and an undertone of warm, animal musk. The closer they got to the middle of the great divide, the stronger it grew until it was almost overpowering.
The scent made Lissa feel strangely dizzy and it seemed to form pictures in her mind. She began daydreaming about what it would be like to lean back and rest against Saber just as she had wanted to earlier. The image was so real, so incredibly vivid, she could almost feel the skin of his broad, bare chest against her back and his strong arms surrounding her. He would kiss the side of her neck, nuzzling her just under the ear while his hands found the front of her dress and pulled it apart to cup her breasts…
No, what’s wrong with me? Lissa shook her head, trying to clear it of the forbidden vision. But it was strangely vivid and hard to get rid of. What was going on?
“Mind the Dream Gas,” Llewelyn said, as if in answer to her question. “It’s particularly strong here near the middle of the trench.”
“Dream gas?” Lissa asked, shaking her head again. “What’s that?”
“That, my lady, is the byproduct of the strip mining we do here on Yonnie Six. It’s harmless in small doses and it brings fantasies to life—at least in your mind.”
“What kind of fantasies?” Saber sounded as uncomfortable as Lissa felt.
“All kinds of fantasizes.” Llewelyn sounded like he might be laughing at them. “Why, friend, are you having images of your mistress?”
“Of course not!“ Saber’s voice was sharp. “She is my mistress, I would never—”
“There’s no shame in it. A slave that doesn’t love his mistress enough to have visions of her is no slave at all,” Llewelyn said. “I’ve been with my lady since her sixteenth birthday and I still want her. When she lets me service her…or when she takes the rod to my ass and punishes me—” He broke off abruptly, as though realizing he was saying too much. “Forgive me. The gas makes you talkative. It’s one of the side effects.”
“One of the side effects?” Lissa asked in a trembling voice. “What are the others?”
“Well, there’s—”
The cart lurched suddenly, tilting dangerously to one side. Lissa felt herself tilting right along with it and suddenly she found herself staring into the abyss. The distant ground was so far below she couldn’t make out any details but it was horrible just the same. Where’s the force field he talked about? she thought, gripping the sides of the cart so hard she felt the jagged metal gouge the soft skin of her palms. Panic rose in her throat to choke her. Where is it? Why isn’t it stopping me from falling? Why—
“Goddess!” Saber grated behind her. One muscular arm reached around her waist and drew her close to him while the other shot out to brace against the side of the cart. The next minute, the cart had righted itself and was speeding along the narrow bridge again but he didn’t let her go.
“Sorry.” Llewelyn didn’t sound the least bit repentant or worried. “Must have hit a pebble on the track. It happens sometimes.”
“It had better not happen again or you’ll pay for it.” Saber’s growling voice seemed to thrum through Lissa’s entire body. “By the Goddess, you’ll pay until you can’t pay anymore.”
“Touchy, aren’t you?” The body-slave still sounded completely unperturbed. “Don’t worry, your precious mistress will reach the other side all right. Only the ones my lady doesn??
?t care for get dumped and I think she’s taken a little shine to yours.”
Lissa felt her heart go cold despite the warmth of Saber’s encircling arm. Dumped? Did they actually use this horrible cart contraption to get rid of unwanted visitors? Or was it another one of Llewelyn’s morbid jokes?
Before she could come to a conclusion, the cart reached the other side of the trench. Mercifully, their ride was over. But as they turned away from the cart and followed Llewelyn to a hovercar parked on the other side, all Lissa could think was that they would have to go back this way as well. It was, after all, the only way back to their ship and off planet.
She had better take care to stay on the ambassador’s good side, she decided with a shiver. Very good care indeed.
Chapter Six
The hovercar ride was uneventful, much to Saber’s relief. He was still in a rage about what had happened—or almost happened—during their ride across the trench. He wanted to pound the ambassador’s body-slave to bloody sludge for daring to frighten Lissa so but he knew he couldn’t.
It was clear how important it was to Lady Sha’rak that a male be properly “trained and broken”. If he decided to beat up her body-slave, it would only make her think he was wild and unmanageable—a danger that had to be removed. And if he was taken from Lissa’s side, how could he possibly defend her? No, he would have to bear it. But he promised himself it would be the last insult he allowed anyone to pay Lissa. She was his to protect and defend and he intended to do that no matter what obstacles stood in his way.
Even more disturbing than the near accident and Lleweyln’s implied insult, however, were the effects of the Dream Gas. The body-slave had been right about the visions that rose before Saber’s eyes as they traveled over the trench. He had seen himself holding Lissa in his arms, touching her, kissing her…and it had been so real. So real he could almost see himself doing it—could feel the silky touch of Lissa’s body, taste her salty-sweet skin, smell her warm, feminine scent as she moaned in his arms and gave herself to him. The vision had been so strong it was more like a hallucination—no, more even than that. It was like an out-of-the-body experience in which he could see himself doing things but couldn’t stop.