Then he turned and started to me.
I watched him move, my body shaking then I saw Dortak get up, still choking and my body froze as I saw Lahn had carved a deep, gaping, curving gash from temple over cheekbone partially through his lip and across his jaw.
“Lahn,” I whispered and Dortak bent, snatched the knife off the ground, straightened and I shouted, “Lahn!”
Dortak charged and Lahn turned like I hadn’t shouted his name to indicate imminent danger but like I’d suggested he might want to look over his shoulder and observe the flight of a pretty butterfly. Then his arm came up, he caught Dortak’s wrist that was connected to the hand that was carrying the knife, used it to swing him around and caught him around the throat with his other forearm. Lahn then twisted Dortak to facing this bride and he used the knife still in Dortak’s hand to slash another curving, deep gash down the length of Dortak’s chest, down, down nearly to his groin and then he moved Dortak’s hand and sunk the blade in Dortak’s side.
Dortak grunted in pain and my knees buckled.
Then Lahn pulled out the knife, let Dortak go, he dropped to his knees, hands to his wound and Lahn wiped Dortak’s blood off the knife against his hides. Then he tossed the knife well away.
Then he turned and stalked to me.
I tried to step back but nearly stumbled over the bench as he came at me and I tried to come to terms with the violent justice I just witnessed my husband dish out. Perhaps it was justified but it still freaked me out.
His long legs had him to me in seconds, he grasped my bicep, turned his back to me, swung me up, my legs automatically curled around his hips as he wrapped my arm around his neck and then he stalked out of the tent.
Welp. Guess that meant the games were over.
Yikes!
* * * * *
“Hold still,” I snapped at Lahn, who was sitting on one of the chairs in our tent and he kept jerking his head out of the way when I tried dabbing his cut lip with the wet, soapy rag I’d managed to explain to Teetru I needed.
My eyes moved from his annoyed ones and I tried to dab at the blood again.
He jerked his head away.
“Lahn!” I hissed. “Hold still!”
He didn’t hold still. He tore the rag from my hand, tossed it on the table and came out of the chair with his shoulder in my belly.
I let out a gust of air as I went up then I went down as he threw me on the bed then I let out another gust of air when he landed on top of me.
“Lahn, we need to clean your cut lip.” On a wheeze I told him something he wouldn’t understand and clearly had no intention of sitting around and allowing me to do. It was a miracle I got him to sit in the first place. It only happened five minutes ago and I still didn’t know how I managed it.
His hand went between us and he yanked one panel of my sarong aside.
I knew where this was going.
“Lahn –”
“Rayloo,” he growled.
“Lahn! Your lip!”
That bloody lip (and his not bloody one, they luckily came in pairs) came to mine. “Rayloo, Circe.”
I glared into his eyes as his hand glided up the skin of my side.
Shit, that felt nice.
“All right, rayloo. I’ll rayloo, whatever the hell that means,” I grumbled, his eyes went soft and his hand went away from my side.
It came up to my face where the pad of his thumb put pressure on my chin and his fingers put pressure on my lips.
“Rayloo,” he said quietly.
Ah. Rayloo.
His hand left my mouth.
“Quiet,” I whispered.
“Quiet,” he repeated.
“Rayloo,” I tried it out and he shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me (as, perhaps, he would considering he’d told me to be quiet and I kept talking) but affirmed, “Rayloo.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
His hand slid down my arm, took mine in his and then it pulled mine between his legs and moved it down inside his hides. Then his fingers curled mine around his hard cock.
Wow. Nice.
I bit my lip and squirmed under him.
He shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me again, his hand left mine around his cock and his went into my panties.
Okay, I was wrong; he knew what to do with me.
So I shut up and let him do it.
Chapter Eight
New Warriors
I felt the thump of something heavy and soft and my eyes opened.
The minute they did, I saw a furry paw and then felt the gentle thump of it against my cheek.
“Loolah,” Ghost mewed, I smiled at my baby, captured her in my arms and gave her a snuggle.
She squirmed free and then bounced and rolled around the bed, a bit on the mattress, mostly on me.
I looked to the other side of the bed.
Lahn was gone.
This was the first time I’d woken up in this world without him.
No, strike that. This was the first time he had not woken me.
And, again, I had woken up in this world.
I rolled to my back, pulled the covers up to my chest and stared at the ceiling as Ghost jumped around, clawing and playing and anytime I could get my hands on her, I scratched or stroked but she was not having that and kept bouncing around.
My mind was bouncing around too.
One, I kept waking up in this world. Two, I had no idea how I got here. Three, I had no idea when I’d be sent home. Four, I had no idea if I’d be sent home. Five, I now had no idea how I felt about that.
Two days ago, I would have begged, borrowed, stole or killed to get home. No joke. Anything, anything to get away from this place.
But now, I’d spent time with Diandra, Sheena and my girls. I had Ghost, a white baby tiger who freaking called me Loolah. The marketplace was interesting. My clothes were kickass. The warriors approved of me. I was a queen which, seriously, had its perks.
And then there was Lahn.
As freaking crazy as it sounded, the man was getting to me – smiling at me, carrying me around on his back in that sweet way, letting me have Ghost, being everything he had not been in bed those first three days and, in fact, being the best lover by far I’d ever had in my life.
Not to mention he was beautiful.
And I was starting to feel a weird connection to him that didn’t make sense but I knew it was there, I felt it, that connection, a fierce pull. And it scared me because I didn’t get it; it made no sense so I decided to bury it, deep.
At the same time I watched him carve into a man without blinking, then stick him with a blade. He’d hunted me. He’d had no problems raping me and then taking me repeatedly when he knew I did not want it and was nowhere near ready to receive him.
He still scared me at the same time he fascinated me, drew me in.
And I had seen my husband smile. I had seen him laugh. And both looked good.
I had a husband, which in itself was bizarre.
But my husband had still not (even last night) kissed me.
And bizarrest of the bizarre, I really wanted my husband to kiss me. I wanted that intimacy; I wanted it a lot, too much. So much, I freaking ached for it.
Totally… whacked!
And lying there in our bed, waking up without him for the first time, I had to admit, I was disappointed he wasn’t there.
Crap.
I didn’t want to be stuck in this world. It frightened me; not only the culture I’d been thrown into but whatever power might be out there that took me to it. I had to admit some parts of it were interesting and some parts even cool. But the rest scared the shit out of me.
And I worried about my Pop. I worried that he was frantic, wondering where I was.
My Pop lost a wife and now his daughter had gone missing. He’d loved Mom; he’d told me time and again they were the perfect match, made for each other. He’d dated, he was a good-looking guy, but he never got even close to serio
us with any of the women he’d had in his life. No one could replace Mom, I knew. He’d never said that but I knew it.
And he loved me, totally and completely, and he’d be sick with worry that I’d disappeared.
I also worried about my friends who I knew would worry about me. And I worried about the state of the office because, Lord knew, those guys didn’t know where anything was, they’d mess everything up and they’d do it in a way where it would take me a year to get it back the way I liked it.
I didn’t know what to do but, even so, I felt guilt that I wasn’t doing anything. And more guilt that I had laughed here, cheered here, smiled here, had sex I enjoyed with a man here and got myself a freaking pet.
“What am I doing?” I whispered to the tent and Ghost jumped up, all four paws landing on my chest and belly. I grunted, then giggled, then wrapped my arms around Ghost who squirmed and I heard the tent flap slap back.
I looked to see the girls streaming through, Teetru coming straight to me, Jacanda dragging the tub, Gaal, Beetus and Packa all following her with buckets of steaming water. Their faces were smiling but their manner was urgent.
Oh well.
One step at a time.
Teetru came to me, snatched Ghost off my chest and dropped her on her feet on the ground. Then she tugged at the sheet once, smiled at me and scurried off, coming back in seconds with my robe.
First step, get up.
I was sitting at the table taking my next step which was eating the breakfast Teetru served of passionfruit and grain mixed with a thick, velvety, sweetened cream cheese (totally delicious) and coffee when I heard a call of, “Poyah!”, the tent flap slapped back and Diandra and Sheena were there dressed, for the Korwahks, to the nines.
“Hey,” I smiled at them, taking in their cool-as-shit fancy duds.
“You will not believe what’s happened, Dahksahna Circe!” Diandra cried then didn’t wait for me to respond, she clapped her hands together in front of her and semi-yelled, “The Dax sent word to Seerim! He wants me to act as your translator! Isn’t that wonderful?”
I stared at her, Sheena grinned with pleasure for her Mom and then Diandra grabbed her daughter’s hand and dashed over to the trunks, all the while babbling.
“We must hurry. The ceremony is fast approaching and there is much to do to prepare you,” she straightened from the trunks and whirled to me, eyes bright, “and I get to stand on the dais next to my queen and translate!” She clapped her hands again and whirled back to the trunks, dropping to her knees where Sheena already was digging through. “I must tell you, Dahksahna Circe, this pleases me greatly. For years, my boys have been gone, in training. And Sheena, she’s not a baby anymore. She’s off and about with her friends, at her studies. Seerim is busy with training his warriors so I rarely see him. I’m alone a lot, too much and sometimes, it’s difficult to find things to do.” Her head twisted to me. “And now I have something to do and it is an important something being interpreter to our queen!”
She smiled and I smiled back at her. I couldn’t help it. Her excitement was catching.
Then Jacanda came forward, took my hand and pulled gently. I stood, grabbing my coffee cup and taking the last sip before I put the cup down and allowed her to lead me to the bath.
“Uh…” I started as I moved through the tent, “speaking of interpreting. Some things happened last night.”
“Oh I know!” Diandra cried, still digging through the trunks, Sheena at her side holding a sarong up and studying it. “It’s all over the camp. Well done you again!”
“Well done me?” I asked, allowing Jacanda to take away my robe and I quickly stepped into the warm, milky, fragrant bath.
“More proof you are the rahna Dahksahna,” Diandra answered, slipping the sarong Sheena was holding from her fingers then carrying a bunch of stuff in her arms to the bed and dumping it there. She turned to me and put her hands to her hips and I was pleased the milky water and floating flower blossoms covered me up to my chest. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?” I asked as I tipped my head back and Gaal poured fragrant, warm water over my hair.
“Consume the zakah?” she asked.
I blinked water out of my eyes and turned to Diandra.
“Zakah?” I asked back.
“The distilled spirit they drink.” Her face twisted. “I do not know a woman who can abide it. It’s a man’s drink and not even that, it’s so strong and foul, it’s a warrior’s drink. Tales sweeping the camp say you didn’t even make a face.”
“Uh… in my, um… land, we drink shots like that all the time. Not that raw but –”
“Unusual,” she muttered, interrupting me and whirled back to the bed where Sheena was separating clothing. “Well, even young warriors cannot drink it for the first time without gasping for breath or spitting it out. Learning to consume it in vast quantities is part of being a warrior.”
There it was. Guys were guys in this world, my world, probably every world.
“You honored a warrior with your accolades too,” she went on. “It is said you watched with avid interest. Another thing wives do not do. They were deeply impressed.”
I definitely got that.
“Diandra?” I called and changed the subject, “Lahn and Dortak fought last night –”
She turned to me and announced, “This, too, is sweeping the camp.”
I had no doubt.
“It was…” I made a face but didn’t go on.
“Not less than he deserved,” she declared, her expression going slightly hard. “Seerim told me he dishonored the games. Unlike in my land or, I am sensing, in yours, these acts amongst men and women are not as guarded, they do not happen always behind cham flaps. If there is a celebration or the men come back from war or plunder, it often gets quite,” she paused to search for a word, “sordid, as we would see it in our lands. And, I will say, there are other times too. They do not hide these things. But the games are a gathering of warriors, it is about men, strength, fortitude, cunning. It was not looked upon positively he did that to his bride, it was not looked upon positively that he even brought her considering it is clear he carries no feelings for her. And it was even less agreeable that he challenged the Dax to a match and did it armed. You do not fight in the games armed. That is not done.”
I got that last night too.
Gaal lathered my hair as I caught Diandra’s eyes and whispered, “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Lahn killing him.”
She waved a hand in front of her face and breathed out, “Oh posh! He left his mark on him and Seerim told me it was a short blade. A flesh wound. Dortak, unfortunately, will be up and about in a few days. Dax Lahn knew what he was doing. Dortak is attended by healers and he’ll be just fine.” She leaned toward me. “But he’ll carry the Dax’s marks for all to see until he’s foolish enough to extend the true challenge and his headless body will burn carrying the marks of the Dax. This was the Dax’s intention. This was his punishment for dishonoring the games, a punishment I heard the Dax seemed not to intend to carry out, likely because you were in attendance but Dortak, in all his wisdom, essentially asked for it. And the Dax, given the opportunity, as you witnessed last night, does not hesitate in meting out punishment.”
Oh yes. I witnessed that last night.
Gaal whispered something to me, I’d heard it before, it included the word linas, which I’d figured out was eyes, so I closed my eyes and she rinsed my hair with another jug of warm water.
Diandra said something to Sheena and I opened my eyes, wiped the water from them and Gaal massaged what I suspected was a kind of conditioner in my hair for this was what she did the last two mornings. It didn’t lather but when my hair was dry, it left it shiny and soft. Or maybe the gunk they put into it did that. I saw Sheena move to Teetru who was sorting through the smaller trunks that held my jewelry. Sheena smiled at Teetru and they carried on digging through the trunks.
My eyes went to Diandra to
see her pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Diandra?” I called.
“Yes, my dear,” she replied, dripping some milk in her cup.
“What does hahla mean?”
She turned to me and sipped, smiling as Jacanda rinsed the soap from one of my arms. “It means ‘true’, ‘pure’, the word means both. This, too,” her voice had dropped, “is sweeping the camp. After last night at the games, you are no longer rahna Dahksahna or Lahnahsahna but rahna Dahksahna hahla and Lahnahsahna hahla. This means, Dahksahna Circe, the warriors believe you are the true golden warrior queen, a pure tigress.” Her smile got bigger. “This is good.”
No. No. It was bad for they believed this and they believed Dax was the mighty warrior of legend, and, from what I’d seen, that could be true.
But I was a girl from Seattle. And I was likely a girl who would go back to Seattle. Not a queen who, with her king, legend tells begins a dynasty.
Shit.
I shook that off and, after Gaal rinsed my hair again, I asked Diandra, “What does kah fauna mean?”
Her body gave a start causing her head to jerk. Then she stared at me. Then her eyes warmed, her face got soft and her lips smiled big.
“Kah fauna?” she whispered, her warm eyes beginning to light.
“Uh…” I stared into her eyes, feeling my stomach dip and my heart beat faster, “yes, kah fauna.”
“Did your king call you that?” Diandra asked and I felt that it wasn’t only Diandra’s eyes but every female’s eyes in that tent were on me.
A quick glance proved this to be true.
I swallowed and looked back at Diandra.
“Yes, uh, twice,” I whispered.
Diandra’s eyes closed slowly. She opened them, turned her head to her daughter and lifted up two fingers.
Sheena beamed.
“What?” I asked and Diandra looked back at me, still grinning. “What?” I asked more urgently.
“It means, Dahksahna Circe, ‘my doe’ or, as we might say it in my land, ‘my sweet’ or ‘my love’ or ‘my darling’.” She moved toward me carrying her cup and her eyes didn’t leave mine as I sat in the warm, fragrant tub with flower blossoms floating around and stared at her in shock at the same time my belly didn’t dip, it warmed… as did my heart. Shit! “Warriors do not speak like this.” She shook her head. “No, this isn’t true, they do, but it is rare and when it comes, it is precious.” She was speaking softly, standing by the tub looking down at me. “My Seerim has called me kah fauna ten times in the twenty-two years he has been my husband. I have counted. I remember each time. And each time was a treasure.”