“We can’t wait for the fruit to ripen,” Bram said, frowning. “We have no time to spare. The asteroid is only a few weeks out.”
He made a motion and the viewscreen in the command center split, so that half of it showed a view of deep space. There was a chunk of ice and rock hurtling through the blackness—what his people called a “world-killer” because its mass was big enough to destroy all life on a planet.
It was headed directly for Alanah’s home world.
“Less than that.” Ren shook his head as he stared at the monstrous, deadly hunk of ice and stone. “Thank the Goddess we found this little planet in time. Especially when we had only your dreams to go on.”
“Dreams are enough when the Goddess is involved,” Bram said, his eyes traveling to the lovely figure of his intended again. “She would not have led us to this planet or allowed me to dream-share with Alanah if we were unable to bond with them.”
“But they’re only a little more than half our size,” Ren protested. “We’re too large. Maybe the Goddess only led us here to save these females and bring them to another planet where they can find males of their own size to mate with and flourish.”
“Our ancestors knew the risk when they split off from the main branch of the Kindred to make a trade with the Jor’gen race,” Bram said stolidly. “They knew the genes responsible for our larger than average size would go into overdrive and yet they still chose to join with the Jor’gen. Now our females are all gone and we are forced to go looking for new trade partners—females compatible with us genetically. The women of Alanah’s planet fit the bill. You said as much yourself.”
Ren shook his head, his many brown braids rustling across his broad shoulders.
“You’ll have to convince them of that,” he said, nodding at the females on the viewscreen.
“I will,” Bram said quietly. “I’m going to go tomorrow—it’s the day of the High Court. Alanah will sit upon her father’s throne and anyone who wishes may make a petition of her. I’m going to go as a supplicant and request a private audience.”
“Will you go alone?” Ren asked. “And dressed as you are?” He nodded at Bram’s dark blue uniform shirt and black leather trousers.
“Alone is best,” Bram said decisively. “A whole squadron of us would scare them—I don’t want that. My size will be frightening enough as it is.”
“And your clothing?” Ren raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s quite different from their homespun garments. They’re still using spinning wheels and looms to manufacture their clothes.” He barked a laugh. “Hell, they probably still think their sun spins around their little planet instead of the other way around and the stars are the campfires of their ancestors who died and went to live in the sky.”
“It’s true they’re pre-industrial,” Bram acknowledged. “And it’s also true that convincing them to come with us would be easier if they weren’t—if they had even a little technology.”
“Our tech is going to look like magic to them,” Ren predicted darkly. “Evil magic if you’re not very, very careful my friend.”
“I’ll have the simulator make me clothing that works for their society,” Bram said. “Alanah has seen me in uniform during the dreams we shared but it will be less jarring for the rest of her people if I am dressed as one of them.” He ran a hand over his braids. “She is an intelligent female—she might be frightened of me and our advanced tech at first but she’ll see soon enough she has nothing to fear.”
Ren snorted. “Nothing to fear but losing her entire way of life, you mean.”
“They’ll lose that anyway—along with their actual lives—if they’re still planet-side when that world-killer hits,” Bram said grimly. “We have to get them out of there—but I want them to come willingly.”
“Do you think that’s even possible?” Ren asked. “We’ll be giants to them, Bram. We’ll look like monsters.”
“I know.” Bram sighed and ran a hand over his long, black braids again. He wore them twisted into a club at the back of his head with a few trailing strands banded in metal hanging down his back. “I know that and I’ll do everything in my power to convince Alanah it’s in her people’s best interest to come with us.”
“And if she doesn’t believe you? If she and the rest of the females won’t come?” Ren raised an eyebrow, his emerald green eyes glowing like coals.
“Then we’ll take them to the ship by force.” Bram spoke the words reluctantly. “But I don’t believe it will come to that. They’ll obey Alanah—she’s their leader.”
“And you’re ours—our captain.” Ren bowed his head. “Forgive me for doubting. It must be as you say—the Goddess wouldn’t have led us here if there was no hope.”
“Thank you, Ren. Your good will is important to me.” Bram bowed his head in return, briefly, and then straightened up. “Well—I must go get ready,” he remarked. “I have much to do before I bend my knee at Alanah’s throne as a supplicant tomorrow.”
“May the Goddess go with you,” his friend said. “And grant you success.”
“Thank you.” Bram nodded. He looked at Alanah on the viewscreen once more, admiring her long, dark hair with its muted red highlights and her serious gray eyes. Much would depend on the impression he made when he entered her presence for the first time tomorrow. Though he had been dream-sharing with her for months, he wasn’t certain how she would feel when she saw him in person. His large size might put her off completely but he hoped not. He sensed the courage inside her—it drew him as much as her beauty.
Gods, to have a female of his own…to hold her in his arms and kiss her sweet mouth…to spread the petals of her pussy and worship her with his tongue… It was what every Kindred male dreamed of—a dream his people had almost given up hope of ever achieving until he’d started dreaming of Alanah.
Goddess, he prayed. Let the dream become a reality. Let me hold her in my arms and love her, despite our differences. Let her see past my body and perceive my soul as I perceive hers. Hear my prayer and, grant it will be so.
Chapter Three
“She put a spell on my cluckens and now they won’t lay! My daughter and I are suffering for want of the eggs—what are we to eat for breakfast, I ask you, my Princess?”
The woman with frowzy dishwater blonde hair pointed at her neighbor, a woman who didn’t look very different from her except she had brown hair instead of blonde.
“She’s lying, my Princess!” the other woman exclaimed shrilly. “I ain’t no black magic worker! I never came near her blasted cluckens in my life. It was her who kept sending them over to my yard to dig for worms and scratch for bugs. Even though I asked her not to since—”
Alanah sighed and tried not to look as weary and bored as she felt. She’d been sitting for so long her bottom felt as cold and hard as the throne she was seated on and her mind was nearly as sore as her behind.
It seemed like she had to deal with the same ridiculous problems over and over and over again. She bewitched my cluckens and now they won’t lay…she cursed my two-horn and the milk is sour…her fence is two inches over the line on my side of the property…her (pick one) doggen, catkin, child keeps wandering into my garden…it never ended.
As she tried to keep her composure, her eyes happened to wander to the right where Thiera, the Elder Witch was standing, watching impassively. The older woman was wearing her traditional court dress—a long, black woolen gown with a headdress and cape of shiny black feathers which framed her angular face dramatically. The outfit made her look wise and forbidding—Alanah was certain the women who came before her wouldn’t dare to whine and complain nearly as much if it was Thiera they were addressing.
Indeed, the Elder Witch would have been more than happy to take over this duty—as well as all the duties which came with ruling. After Alanah’s father had died, Thiera had tried to persuade her to give the throne over.
“The weight of this responsibility rests too heavily on your young shoulders,” the older woman
had said, the light of cunning flickering in her black eyes. “Why do you not allow someone who has experience in guiding the lives of others take this heavy burden from you, my daughter? Why not allow Thiera to do what needs to be done so you can have some peace and rest?”
Alanah had been tempted but it was a temptation she had ultimately resisted when she refused the witch's offer.
“My father entrusted the throne to me,” she told Thiera, keeping her voice even and calm. “I must do the best I can to honor his memory.”
“I see.” Thiera’s upper lip had curled into a snarl. “So my long years of wisdom and experience count for nothing.”
“Of course not!” Alanah had never particularly liked the other woman and she trusted her still less, but she was no fool—Thiera was the spiritual leader of the kingdom. She must be treated with respect…and kept at an arms length. At least, that was how Alanah’s father had always approached the situation.
“You must stay by my side and help me guide the people,” she had told the Elder Witch. “I will need your wisdom and advice when difficult situations arise on High Court days.”
Of course so far the only difficulty was in keeping her subjects from killing each other over their petty squabbles but it was good, every now and then, to defer to Thiera’s “wisdom” when resolving these conflicts.
Alanah decided this was definitely one of those times. She held up her hand for silence and the two angry women, who were no doubt clucking as loudly as the cluckens they were fighting over, finally shut up.
“Elder Witch,” she said, turning gravely to Thiera. “Can you resolve this conflict? It appears to have something to do with magic which is not my area of expertise.”
“Of course, my Princess.” Thiera bowed dramatically and swept forward, her elaborate headdress of shiny black feathers rustling. “Hold out your hands, my children,” she said to the two women, whose eyes were now wide with awe. “I shall be able to tell if any black magic has passed between you merely by the touch of your skin to mine.”
Alanah watched sourly as the two frowzy peasant women silently held trembling hands out to the Elder Witch. There were some necessary rituals and blessings—mostly to do with fertility rites which Thiera alone could perform—but for the most part, Alanah tended to think the Elder Witch’s craft was more theatrical than practical. Still, her mystery and mystique kept the people happy, which Alanah’s father had always insisted was important for ruling successfully and well.
As Thiera finished with the two women and sent them on their way, Alanah sighed and looked at the shadows slanting through the open doorway. It was growing late and if no more supplicants arrived today she might be able to go and get a quick bath in the waters of the hot spring pool located in the bathing cave beneath the castle.
Of course, “hot” was a relative term—the water bubbling up from the ground seldom got more than blood-warm to touch. But even that meager heat felt good when the nights began to grow long and icy, which they seemed to do earlier every year. In fact, if she hurried—
The thought stopped dead in her brain—cut off as cleanly as if by a sharp knife. For the shadows in the high, arching doorways were lengthening but there was one shadow in particular which seemed long—much too long to be real.
And it was attached to a man—a man Alanah knew.
“My Princess!” The girl who was acting as door guard came forward, her eyes wide with awe, her knuckles white, so tightly did she grip the heavy spear she’d inherited from her older brother. “This…person says he has come from a far distance and he begs an audience with you.”
“Who is this?” Thiera demanded before Alanah could even speak. “A giant? A demon from the North come to kill us and take what little we have left?”
At last Alanah found her voice. She’d been staring at the supplicant—who was undoubtedly the same man she’d been dreaming of for months—in uncertainty and awe. He was so much bigger than he’d seemed in her dreams. She’d never seen a man so tall in her life—never. Why, he had to be nearly a meter taller than Alanah herself and she was taller than anyone else in her kingdom!
But the Elder Witch’s inflammatory words broke the spell she’d been under. She needed to act quickly to keep control of this situation, especially with so many of her subjects standing by watching.
“Of course not,” she said sharply—perhaps a bit too sharply if the sour expression on the older woman’s face was any indication. “He is simply a supplicant.”
“Turn him away, my Princess,” Thiera said darkly in a high, melodramatic voice. “No good can come of a giant at our door.”
For the first time the giant himself spoke.
“The rules of the High Court state that any may come before the ruler and ask a boon or air a grievance,” he said. “No one is excluded for any reason.”
His voice was a deep rumble that seemed to travel through the air and shake Alanah’s very bones as she sat in the cold stone throne of her father. She wished she could take a moment to reflect on his quiet tone, to study his features and his glowing sapphire eyes before she answered, but she could already see Thiera opening her mouth again, doubtless to condemn the strange man.
“I see you know the ways of our people,” she said, sitting up straighter in the throne and lifting her chin. Though the throne was on a raised dais, high off the ground, she still had to look up slightly to meet his eyes.
“I do,” he said simply and didn’t explain why or how. He was dressed, Alanah saw, as a peasant man might dress, in woven blue trousers and a brown leather belt with low brown boots on his enormous feet. His broad, muscular chest was bare and he wore his hair as he had in her dreams—in many thick braids coiled into a club at the back of his head.
“And what do you ask of me?” she said before Thiera could get a word in edgewise. “Do you bring a grievance or seek a boon?”
“A boon.” He dropped to his knees, which finally put his head below her own, and looked up at her. “I crave a private audience with you, Princess. For I have news which will affect you and all of your people.”
“A private audience? Impossible!” Thiera exclaimed before Alanah could even answer. “How do we know you won’t try to harm or defile our precious princess once you have her alone, giant?”
The giant turned his startling sapphire eyes on the Elder Witch and regarded her quietly. Thiera held his gaze for a long moment, her mouth turned down in an ugly sneer as though it was a physical effort to do so.
“I have been dreaming of Princess Alanah for many months now,” he rumbled at last. “She is dear to me already, though I have not met her until today. I would never harm her.”
“Dreaming of her?” Thiera exclaimed. “What black magic is this? What—”
“Enough!” Alanah raised her voice and her hand at the same time, cutting the Elder Witch off. “I will speak to you, giant,” she said, using the word as a title rather than a curse, as Thiera had done. “And hear what you have to say.” She rose from the throne, trying not to wince as she left its frigid, stone embrace. “And as there are no more supplicants, I declare this High Court day to be at an end.”
Amid a babble of excited female voices, she swept down the stone steps of the dais and went to stand before the still-kneeling man. Even on his knees he was slightly taller than her and his shoulders were fully twice as broad as her own. His hands, curled loosely at his sides, would be large enough to cover her face. In fact, to Alanah they looked strong enough to crush her skull, if he wanted to do so.
For a moment her heart skipped a beat with fear. Was she crazy, granting him a private audience—letting herself be alone with him? But his eyes were quiet and kind, just as they had been in her dreams.
You do not need to fear me, those eyes said. I will never hurt you.
“All right,” Alanah said, as though he had spoken aloud. “Come with me.”
He nodded and rose gracefully to his feet, towering over her in a rather alarming way. But his voice
was gentle as he spoke.
“I am yours to command, Princess. Where will you take me?”
For a moment Alanah frowned. Where could she take him for some privacy? Away from prying eyes and curious ears? Someplace where they could be alone and be certain no one could overhear them…
Then a thought came to her and she nodded at him.
“Come on—I have just the place.”
Turning without looking to see if he was following, she marched regally out of the throne room, aware that every eye in the palace was on her and the impossibly tall giant who followed in her wake.
Chapter Four
Bram was relieved that Alanah had been willing to speak to him, especially after the wise woman had attempted to discredit him. He had an idea that one was going to be a problem in the future, but right now he had to concentrate on making a meaningful connection with the female of his dreams.
Not that he didn’t already feel a meaningful connection. He had to hold himself back from sweeping her into his arms and kissing her then and there, in the middle of the crowded castle hallway they were traversing. He knew it was an extremely bad idea but still—he was nearly overwhelmed by the fact that he was finally meeting her. After months of dream-sharing the reality was even better than he’d hoped or imagined.
She’s so lovely—so delicate, he thought as he followed her silently through the halls and corridors, ignoring the curious eyes and excited chatter that surrounded them everywhere they went. And for the first time she was within his reach—close enough to touch.
But Bram knew he mustn’t touch her—not yet. He’d scented her fear as he knelt before her in the throne room—his very size was intimidating enough without him grabbing her. He needed her to know him—to understand deep in her bones that he would die rather than hurt her—before he laid even a single finger on her.
Gods it was hard—so hard to hold himself back. Seeing her in dreams was one thing—now he was close enough to smell her sweet, feminine scent, to hear the soft lilt of her voice. She drew him like a magnet.