“Look, it’s your first time setting foot on another world. You’re bound to be nervous, which is perfectly natural, but unfortunately, they aren’t likely to have any Stress Clinics down there to help you out.”
“Get serious, will you?”
“Just keep your finger off the stun button, and try taking a few deep breaths before your next reaction.”
“I’ll do ... oh, my.”
“What?”
“Talk about getting knocked off your feet,” Tedra said with a good deal of awe.
“Did you fall down, doll?”
“It sure feels like it. Take a look.” She pointed the unit at what had dropped down from a tree in front of her not ten feet away.
“ ‘Oh, my’ was kind of an understatement, I’d say.” The voice in the box was duly impressed. “Is he as big as he looks from here?”
“Bigger. Stars, he’s got to be nearly seven feet! What is he, do you suppose, besides a giant?”
“An accurate guess would be a barbarian, what the Sha-Ka’ari would still be if they hadn’t been touched by the advanced worlds in our Star System.”
“A barbarian . . . farden hell,” Tedra said in disappointment. An arrogant warrior was one thing. A barbarian warrior was another matter entirely. “Maybe I better return to the Rover.”
“Aren’t you giving up a bit soon?”
“That’s a damn big sword he’s holding in his hand, Martha.”
“That’s a damn powerful phazor you’re holding in yours, kiddo.”
Tedra grinned then. “That’s right, isn’t it? What do I have to be wary about? And he is magnificent, isn’t he?”
That was another understatement. He put the handsome Kowan to shame, in height, brawn, and looks. Even Corth, whose features were artificially perfect, paled next to the barbarian. This was dominant maleness personified, arms, legs, chest, everything larger than anything she’d ever seen before. Dark golden brows sat low over his eyes, with barely an arch to be seen. The chin was square and aggressive, with the slightest shadow of a cleft; the lips a slashing line with no hint of humor. Skin deep gold, only a little lighter than wavy long hair, which fell just short of massive shoulders—bare shoulders. He wore only a pair of buttery soft black leather pants for clothing, skintight and molded to those thick-muscled legs. Calf-high boots were in the same soft leather, and from wrist to elbow was strapped an intricately carved arm shield. His only other accessories were the wide sword belt about his hips and a large gold disc the size of her fist hanging down to the center of his massive chest.
She hadn’t realized she had been looking him over so thoroughly, or for so long, until her eyes happened to meet his. “Why is he looking at me like that, Martha?” she asked uneasily. The barbarian wasn’t exactly frowning, but the whole look of him had turned to one of high displeasure.
“Maybe because he doesn’t understand a word you’ve been saying. Or maybe because he’s never heard a box speak. You can bet your krystals he’s never encountered anything like me before, and you don’t come under the heading of normal either. You’d better introduce yourself, kiddo, before he decides you’re an evil vision he should try to banish. After all, we don’t know how primitive their beliefs are.”
His dark eyes had indeed gone to her phazor unit while Martha spoke. His sword came up a little, and Tedra took a step back.
“I think you’ve hit it on the nose, old girl,” Tedra said thoughtfully. “I’m going to turn you off for a while, so you aren’t tempted to butt in.”
“Now wait—”
The link went dead, and Tedra smiled. She hadn’t been able to do that on the Rover with Martha in control of every communications outlet in sight. It was a distinct pleasure to be able to do it now. Martha could still hear what was going on through the short-range scanner which was locked onto her homing signal. She just couldn’t talk back.
Tedra’s smile had been intercepted, and although it wasn’t for the barbarian, his sword tip returned to point at the ground and she relaxed a tiny bit. He hadn’t said anything yet, and she had to wonder if he might have seen her pop into his world. He could be in shock if that was the case, or thinking her some type of devil or witch—if these people believed in such things or their equivalent. She’d best dispel that notion if it was there.
“Greetings, warrior.” She switched to Sha-Ka’ari to be understood, and it was a safe bet he was a warrior, so calling him one shouldn’t offend him. “I hope I didn’t startle you with my appearance. If I did, I can explain, but it’s complicated and best left for later.” No answer, which she could take either way. “I’m called Tedra De Arr.”
She raised her hand in the universal sign of friendship. It was wasted on the barbarian, who didn’t recognize it. But his expression said he did understand her words. After listening to her Kystrani, he had revealed a slight surprise when she began to speak in his language. But she obviously hadn’t reassured him enough for him to put away his sword.
She tried again. “I come in friendship—”
“Why are you dressed so, woman?”
The sound of his voice did some startling as well. It was deep and authoritative—and arrogant. She had given him her name, but still he called her woman. Well, she had known it wouldn’t be easy dealing with barbarians. And she could have kicked herself for not realizing a primitive like this would find her clothing fantastical.
“These are the clothes of my people,” she started to explain.
“They are the clothes of warriors.”
So that was it. He wasn’t amazed by the material, just that she was wearing what he would consider the clothing of men only. From her Relics tapes, she knew there had been a time when the Ancients from Kystran’s mother planet had held the same primitive belief that women didn’t belong in pants.
Tedra didn’t care to get into a long discussion about progress, not with him anyway. It was the leaders of his planet, the shodani, whom she needed to impress with the wonders of the advanced worlds, not a mere warrior.
To avoid the issue for now, she said simply, “I found it necessary to borrow these.”
“You will remove them.”
“Now just a—”
“Remove them, woman.”
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to with that tone. It was an order he fully expected to be obeyed, and Tedra had a moment’s inclination to obey him with all speed, which was crazy. She wasn’t a helpless female who was subject to a man’s will. She was sorry he was offended by her outfit, but that was just too bad. She wasn’t removing anything, not for him or anyone else.
“Are you going to tell me your women aren’t allowed clothing?” she asked suspiciously. If that was the case, she was leaving right now.
“They wear the chauri. ”
“Well, then,” she replied agreeably. “If you’ll just produce a chauri for me, I might consider changing. Otherwise, I’ll keep . . . what ...”
Her words died off as his sword came up and around to slide into its scabbard before he started walking toward her. At that point she didn’t have a single doubt of his intention. Her reasonable offer was not being considered. He’d ordered her to remove her clothes, and since she hadn’t, he was going to do the removing himself.
“Now, look, warrior, I can’t let you . . . you’d better stop right ... I said stop!”
He didn’t, and the distance was closing fast between them—too fast. She couldn’t think how to reach him with words, if anything could reach something that looked that determined. But she wasn’t about to let anything that big get close enough to get his hands on her.
“Farden fool,” she hissed under her breath before pointing her phazor and pressing stun.
He was stopped instantly. He even remained on his feet, as big and wide as they were. She was too furious to appreciate that. This wasn’t the way to start friendly relations. The barbarian wouldn’t realize what she had done to him when he came out of it, but that wasn’t the point.
She opened the computer link to demand, “Did you hear all that, Martha? Can you believe such arrogance?”
“Am I to assume you’ve put him on hold?”
“What else could I do? He was about to steal the clothes right off my body.”
“Maybe you should have let him, kiddo. It would almost guarantee some very friendly negotiations.”
“Very funny,” Tedra said, only the possibility wasn’t in the least revolting.
She couldn’t deny the strong attraction she had felt on first sight of the barbarian. She had been hit with a jolt of sensation similar to what she experienced when Kowan had kissed her, yet the barbarian hadn’t even been close to her. She felt it again now, staring at him. And now that it was safe to do so, she was drawn to him for a closer look.
All that bare skin and visible muscle was irresistible, and she gave into the urge, hesitantly placing her fingers to his chest, then more surely. The skin was warm, soft to the touch, but with no flexibility, like velvet-covered rock. As her exploration moved down to his hip, she discovered the leather of his pants was as buttery soft as it had looked, and she couldn’t help wondering how a backward culture like his could produce something of a manufactured quality.
The steel wrapped around his left forearm did indeed look like Toreno, but she couldn’t test that without firing at it when he was conscious, to see if the stun beam would be deflected or put him out again. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her using him for testing, and she felt bad enough already that she’d had to stun him at all. Her sense of fair play was outraged at having hit him with something he didn’t know was coming, especially since it had only been one on one, where she could have discouraged him in any number of other ways if she hadn’t panicked because of his size.
The upper arms, Stars, she couldn’t even get her hands halfway around the muscled expanse. Moving to stand directly in front of him, she felt small and vulnerable, an alien feeling it was hard to shake off. But her head likely didn’t even reach his shoulders, and that chest was so wide, she had nothing to compare it with.
He really was a good foot taller than she was, and it was a strain on her neck to try and look up at him that close. But when she stepped back to examine his face, the dark eyes made her uneasy. They were probably brown, but such a dark shade they appeared sable black, and they seemed to be looking right at her with an awareness that couldn’t possible be there.
“Let me take a wild guess at what all that silence means,” came Martha’s dry tone through the unit.
Tedra’s cheeks scalded. Damned computer. How in the farden hell did she do that, when the unit had been pointed away from the barbarian so she couldn’t see what Tedra was doing?
“I’m only human,” Tedra grumbled, knowing it was useless to deny she’d taken advantage of the barbarian’s unconscious state. “He can’t be offended by what he doesn’t know, can he?” Silence met that question, and Tedra felt a certain dread, staring at those dark eyes that continued to stare right back at her. “Martha?”
“I hate to break up your party, kiddo, but I seriously doubt the stunning worked properly on such a large specimen as that, not on the low setting I’m reading on your unit. There’s something in the atmosphere down there—”
“What didn’t work?” Tedra cut in, shouting, “He’s immobilized!”
“Yes, but I don’t think his mind was put on hold. I think he can hear you, feel you—”
“You’re heading for the junkyard, Martha, I swear you are! Why in hell didn’t you tell me immediately? Are you trying to get me raped?”
“Would it be rape?” Martha came back placidly. “I didn’t miss that ‘oh, my,’ doll.”
Tedra was so furious she slammed her fist down on the link button, afraid she’d stomp the unit into the ground if she heard another word from Martha. But worse than her fury was her mortification, and that increased to the limit when she met those sable eyes again, and did feel that they were seeing her with perfect clarity. Awake. The barbarian was awake and aware of everything she had done, and that thought made her jump back so quickly she stumbled. But landing on her backside didn’t embarrass her any further. Nothing could be worse than what she already felt.
Looking up at him again, she saw that the eyes had even followed her to the ground, and all she wanted to do was roll over and bury her head. She got up instead and came back to him. She had to take advantage again to explain while he still couldn’t move and was forced to listen to her.
“Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I shouldn’t have examined you like that, warrior. I had no right, and my only excuse is ... curiosity . . . yes, that’s what happened. My curiosity got the better of me. The men don’t grow as big as you where I come from. They’re more my size, which can’t mean much to you, but was pretty big to me until I began meeting Sha-Ka’ari warriors, but even they weren’t as big as you. Wouldn’t you be curious about something you’d never seen the like of before?”
He was listening. He couldn’t help but listen. And that was another thing. People coming out of stun usually felt just a slight disorientation, but no remembrance of being stunned or even of a time lapse. They might wonder about the scene around them being different, like missing people who had been there before, but unless they saw the phazor beforehand and recognized it for what it was, they passed the incident off as being unexplainable and dismissed it. The barbarian, however, being awake, knew he couldn’t move, knew something had been done to him, and was probably experiencing a lot of confusion and even some fear. He had probably never in his life been so confined, and he wouldn’t be liking it one bit, but he had brought it on himself. She wasn’t taking the blame for that, too.
“If you had just stopped when I requested it, warrior, I wouldn’t have had to stun you. But the condition is only temporary. You’ll be as good as new when you come out of it. It was supposed to render you unconscious, but my setting was too low, and you’re too big ... and I figure you’ll probably try to take it from me now, though I can’t let you do that. I’ve already raised the setting. Next time it will knock you out, and I’m only telling you this so there won’t be a next time. I don’t like stunning people any more than they like being stunned, so if you’ll just keep your distance from me until we can come to some sort of agreement, I won’t have to use the phazor on you again. Is that too much to ask? I’m not here to cause trouble or hurt anyone. I’m here to trade with you people, and maybe more, but that’s for your shodan to decide. If you could agree to take me to—”
Tedra shrieked, he moved so fast when he came out of stun, too fast for her reflexes to accomplish anything except try to get out of the way. She wasn’t quite successful either. He obtained what he was after, ripping the phazor unit from her hand and throwing it a good distance away from him, while she ended up tripping over her feet again. She wasn’t usually so clumsy, and it was disgusting that she should be now. She sprawled on the ground, and this time she was looking up at an awake, aware, and movable barbarian.
Chapter Eight
Challen was too angry for words, but most of it was self-directed, and none of it showed. He had acted most foolishly in approaching the woman after seeing firsthand what she had done to the taraan with her small box. That she had done the same to him was no more than he deserved for that foolishness. How she had done it was less important, since it would not happen again. But he had let a mild annoyance over her clothes get the better of him, something a shodan should not have done.
Her—examination of him was another matter. He had not liked it, but only because he could not respond to it accordingly, and the basis of most of his anger now was the simple fact that he still could not give the woman what her boldness had demanded of him. If he had not taken the juice of the dhaya plant that morning, as warriors usually did when they had been long on the hunt, she would be under him already and receiving the proper instruction on how to deal with a warrior. But taken undiluted, the dhaya juice prevented the need for a woman, in f
act made it impossible to take one, which was why it was used on raids to keep warriors’ minds from being distracted by female captives, and on hunts. Taken mixed with wine, it served another purpose, that of keeping children from being conceived by just any woman, for only the life-mate of a warrior could bear his children.
This woman intrigued him with her strange way of speaking that ran words together, and her other language that made no sense at all. She was also very pleasing to look upon, something his distraction with her clothing had kept him from noticing fully until she had approached him. And that boldness, by the stones of gaali, he had never known the like of. Women expressed their needs and desires with words and looks, and hoped a warrior would be interested. They did not touch without first receiving expressed encouragement to do so, since their place was to give, not to take.
Challen smiled finally, remembering that the woman was here before him without a man at her side, which made her claimable if he so desired to offer her his protection. She might be a woman of the higher classes, if her raiments were any indication, but the laws pertained to all women, servant and highborn alike. He could claim her or use her, the choice his, her ignoring the law losing her the right to refuse him.
It was a law Challen had never taken advantage of before. Women came to the shodan for protection, the old ones, widows, the orphans. There had never been the need to find one to claim, when he had more than made for a peaceful household. Of course, those who sought his protection could not be used, did they not offer themselves for use. But one who was claimed had no say in the matter.
Tedra didn’t like the smile that came her way. It was too full of satisfaction to warrant her any good. So the barbarian thought the tables were turned now, did he? She would just have to disabuse him of that notion.